


Tadfield 66(6)

by Shay_Moonsilk



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Gen, Hastur and Ligur raise Aziraphale, Light daddy kink, Loosely inspired by Brooklyn 99, M/M, Multi, Protective Gabriel (Good Omens), they love their son, workplace hijinks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-08 02:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21468820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shay_Moonsilk/pseuds/Shay_Moonsilk
Summary: They say it takes a village to raise a child. Sometimes, it takes an entire precinct - the Tadfield 66. Twenty-two years ago, Aziraphale was adopted as a newborn by rookie cops Hastur LaVista and Ligur Fell, and adored by their colleagues: Michael, Beelzebub, Dagon, and Gabriel.Recently, Anthony J. Crowley a hotshot officer with a reputation as a playboy, joined the Tadfield 66.  But lately, he’s started bragging about an ‘angel’ that he can’t get enough of.New love and family clash awkwardly, but come together to save the angel they all adore when the unthinkable happens...
Relationships: Aziraphale & Hastur & Ligur (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Dagon/Gabriel (Good Omens), Hastur/Ligur (Good Omens), Lilith/Satan | Lucifer (Good Omens), Michael/Uriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 248
Kudos: 345
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	1. Holiday Party: December 12, 2014 (Aziraphale is twenty-one years old)

**Author's Note:**

> This whole AU was born from two ideas:
> 
> The First Idea: Character A is sleeping with character B and brags about it at the office. But what Character A doesn't know is that B's parents work with them. It makes for an awkward holiday party. 
> 
> The Second Idea: I just really wanted Hastur and Ligur to be Aziraphale's parents?!?! I thought it would be cute???
> 
> Also, so many thank-yous to people on Discord for helping me develop this - you have all been so helpful and comforting when I thought "is this weird?" because yes, but you were all supportive. 
> 
> This has multiple chapters, that all take place in different parts of a timeline I've created. The correct year is in the chapter title.

Anthony James Crowley had grown up obsessed with James Bond movies. Getting to be a swaggering hero with witty one-liners and the ability to save the day had been a dream of his. But actually becoming an intelligence agent was a completely different story. It would have taken years of training and learning several languages. He wasn't much a reader. School wasn't really his thing. But there was a program that could let him become a police officer, and that was the chance to help his community on a local level. So after graduating high school he went into basic training and came out with the title 'Officer'. 

It didn't hurt that he became a magnet for different ladies and gentlemen. A combination of the uniform - the uniform was always helpful in getting a date - and his own charm meant that he got to build a reputation as something of a playboy. Which was perfectly fine by him, because he enjoyed sex and didn't mind if the uniform helped. Besides, it didn't matter to him that the sex was mostly one or two night stands. He had his job, he had a family, and he had his snakes. 

These relationships fell apart for three main reasons: His snakes, his apartment building, and the fact that he was a police officer. 

People had all these false notions that snakes were dangerous creatures, and most of his partners were too scared to even _touch _them. But that was ridiculous. His snakes were his precious treasures. He had had William Snakespeare - his oldest - since he was ten years old. The most threatening William ever got was when he would whine during the winter for being too cold, and demand to wrap around him. Well. Not anymore. William seemed to have a new favorite furnace. 

The second reason - his apartment building. In addition to his work as an officer, he was also a landlord for one of the nicer high-rises in downtown. His parents owned a block of apartment buildings across several cities, which meant that he had grown up affluent. When he moved out of his hometown, his mother had made him promise to move into their apartment building and make sure it was running smoothly. He did, but it meant most partners were intimidated and it became a turnoff for anything long term. It was annoying sure, but not nearly as much as someone telling him to pick between his snakes - which he had owned nearly his whole life, or them. 

But the biggest annoyance was when someone told him they couldn't date an officer. That was ridiculous. Most people had met him when he was _wearing _the uniform. Though apparently, it was one thing to have meaningless sex with someone and another to want to date long term. People got scared that he could get hurt while working, or something would happen. So if he ever saw someone for a third date, they usually would ask, "So, how dedicated are you to this job?" 

He would say, "Pretty dedicated." 

They would go, "Oh, I see." 

And that would be that. 

When he turned twenty-four he had been an officer for nearly four years, and had been used to this pattern. But then he joined the Tadfield 66, and things began to turn around for him. Earlier that year he had been transferred from Tadfield 77 to the 66, and it was such a better place to work. 

Michael Heaven was the captain of the precinct. She was stern, tough to read, and a major stickler for rules. For the first few weeks she had glowered at him until he learned the lesson of wearing a tie in the workplace everyday. Anthony struggled with being able to read her face when she gave him feedback - he never had any idea if she was mad or happy with him. It was confusing, but she was a fair captain and cared about them as officers. 

His partner was Gabriel, who had been there for nearly twenty years. Gabriel could be dense and oblivious, and he was obsessed with running everyday, but he was dedicated and kind. Crowley had assumed that Gabriel would have been confused when he talked about sleeping with a girl his first week there, and a guy his second, but Gabriel wasn't fazed at all. 

Of course, Anthony later realized it was because he had been in a long-term relationship with both Beelzebub _and_ Dagon. 

Beelzebub was terrifying and amazing. They liked to work alone most cases, but if they had to have a partner, they would walk up to Crowley's desk and say, "You're with me now." And he was too intimidated to think of saying no. Beelzebub was mysterious, and Crowley knew so very little about them. There was a small chance that Beelzebub wasn't even their name, but in no way was Crowley ever going to ask. He didn't have a death wish. It didn't stop Beelzebub from being the person he was closest to, aside from Gabriel. 

Dagon was Michael's assistant, and kept track of their filing. Their office ran smoothly because she kept it that way. And it was odd that she demanded being called the "Lord of Files" whenever Crowley needed a stapler, but he had seen weirder. 

Then there was Hastur and Ligur. They had been at the precinct for longest time, and knew the city best. Hastur had grown up in the area, and Ligur had moved their when he was seventeen, alone. Both were hardened. Crowley had gotten on the wrong foot with them when he started. 

That had hardly been his fault though. It was one of his first days, and he had seen a drawing of a sunflower against the wall with a frame around it. 

"Who made that?" He had half-asked, half-snorted to Gabriel at the time, "A child?" 

From behind him, Ligur had growled a, "Yes," Making them both jump.

"Why don't we just paint over it? It's not very good," Crowley had said, like an idiot. 

The look Ligur gave him found its way into his nightmares. "Because my son made it." He had snapped, and walked off. Crowley had gaped at him, and looked at Gabriel for sympathy, but there was none. 

"He's protective over his kid," Gabriel had shrugged, "And also that's my godkid so be careful what you say." 

Crowley had rolled his eyes at the time. "Hope he has a day job," He had scoffed, and it got left at that. It did make him wonder more about their kid, but Hastur and Ligur were incredibly tight-lipped about any details that Crowley wanted to know. There were some photos on their desks of a child, but none of those photos showed a kid older then ten years old. It did explain why there was a small kids table with coloring books in the precinct - most offices didn't have any space for kids if parents had to come by the station. So it was nice. But Crowley never ended up seeing a kid come by the station. Which was a shame because he could not imagine Hastur or Ligur as a parent. They both always seemed so angry and stern. Or maybe that was just their attitude with him. 

But then Crowley got distracted by trying to figure out who their kid could be, because he was actually _dating _someone now. 

Aziraphale. 

Crowley had met Aziraphale a few weeks ago, but he was convinced they were meant to be. Aziraphale had walked right up to him at a bar, and told him that he thought Anthony was the most attractive person there. At the time, Crowley had just assumed that he was tipsy and it was going to be a fun night. But that was totally fine, and he made out with him before taking him back to his apartment for one of his typical friday nights. But then, the next day, Aziraphale had found his snakes and _cooed_ at them until he let them out to meet Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale had adored them, and when he learned their names: William Snakespeare, Reese Slitherspoon, and Monty Python, he had been so enamored he made out with Crowley again and just like _that_, they had spent the whole weekend together. Aziraphale didn't care that he ran the building, even, or that he was an officer. Apparently he had family in the force as well. Sometimes it felt like he understood Crowley's job better then he did. But most importantly, the snakes loved him. And he liked spending time with Aziraphale, who liked spending time with him. 

Which was what brought him to the staff holiday party. It was his first one, but they were encouraged to bring close friends and family. So as Michael droned on about appropriate behavior she expected to see, Crowley took out his phone to text his... boyfriend? Could they say that? 

_ Hey angel, _ He typed, _My office is throwing a party this Friday. Want to be my date? You can meet my coworkers._

Aziraphale replied almost right away, _Certainly dear! It sounds like fun :) _

"Crowley," His head snapped up, to see Michael at the front of the room. She was pursing her lips, and he knew she was upset about texting. "Something more interesting to you?"

"Probably figuring out if he can bring the 'angel' to the party," Dagon snickered, and Crowley gave her a smirk. 

"Yeah, actually, I was," He said. There were some eyerolls that he didn't miss, but it didn't matter. Crowley had made a habit of sharing his own stories with the rest of the office. When he started out, the stories were more explicit, but recently he had taken it down a peg. Especially because he _liked _Aziraphale. 

"This one has to be a record for you," Hastur snarked, "What is it, a month now?" 

"Just about, yeah," Crowley said, typing back a reply. "He's smart too, he's graduating college in a few weeks."

"Can't be that smart if he's still with you," Ligur growled, but Crowley didn't pay any attention. 

"Can't help I got a hot little angel," He grinned, and Michael called for his attention again. The precinct only knew Aziraphale by the nickname Crowley gave him, "_angel_". It had been half a joke, really.  That Monday after they had met, he had shared detailed with Beelzebub and Gabriel all about the naughty angel he had met over that weekend - who had been his exact fantasy. "Like an angel sent from Heaven, that wanted to sleep with me." 

They thought his stories were hilarious and had even pressed him for details. So he bragged about how _great_ the sex was, how much his lover had _loved_ getting bitten, marked up, and even spanked, and that he didn't have to hold back. And then he even cuddled his snakes close and called them adorable! 

_Angel_ as a moniker was half a joke. Someone who let Crowley do _half_ the things he did was _no angel_, but Aziraphale had such a glow about him. And he inspired Crowley to want to be more - be better. And no joke, he looked like one of the angel cherubs that existed in those renaissance paintings Aziraphale would make him look at. 

That had been their first date. One of Aziraphale's friends at school had participated in an art gallery, and Aziraphale was going to support. Crowley was trying to prove that he could be a serious boyfriend, not just someone who wanted sex. So at the time he had left work with a collared shirt and tie - earning some ribbing from Ligur ("The sex must be good if you're going to an _art_ _show_" he had said) and went to stare at art with the guy he was trying to impress. They had looked at his friend's painting of cherubim - and Crowley kept looking from the angel to Aziraphale. 

"That's you," He half-teased. 

Aziraphale had just grinned. "Actually, I did get asked to model, so that really is me." 

"Oh, you really are an angel then," Crowley had grinned, and the nickname stuck ever since. 

So as the rest of the squad teased him, Crowley just rolled his eyes and didn't let it phase him. 

Michael dismissed them soon after, telling them all to get back to work. As Hastur and Ligur stood, Gabriel walked back to join them. "What about Aziraphale?" He asked lowly, "Is he coming?"

"He's never missed a party," Hastur reminded him, but he did pull his phone out to text. Aziraphale had been very bust this last year, and stressed. He had been spending most weekends out of the house. Hastur and Ligur had assumed it was because he had been preparing to graduate, and also to spend time with "AJ". 

Aziraphale had made a new friend a few weeks ago, but this was no ordinary friend, like Newt. This was a friend that Aziraphale didn't share many details about - not that they really saw him much these days. But it was so obvious that he was seeing someone. Aziraphale had been staying at 'A dear friend's house' for about a month now. Hastur and Ligur were not stupid - and Aziraphale had never quite figured out how to use coverup on his neck. Obviously their kid was seeing someone, but they assumed that AJ was someone Aziraphale knew from school - another bookish type like him. 

_Hey bunny, _Hastur typed, _Our party's this Friday, are you still coming?_

He got a quick response - Aziraphale must be taking a break from homework. _Oh no. I'm sorry daddy I just agreed to go somewhere with AJ. _

_It's alright, but you'll have to be the one to tell Uncle Gabriel_, Hastur replied. Aziraphale didn't have many friends - he had Newt, who had been his friend since they were five, and Anathema, who had been his friend since high school, but other then that his friends were the officers at the 66. It would be nice for Aziraphale to spend time with AJ and other people his own age. 

"Sorry, looks like he's got other plans," Hastur said, and bit back a laugh as Gabriel's face fell. 

"AJ?" Ligur asked, as Gabriel moped off. _You're going to have to make it up to Gabriel_ he texted Aziraphale, who had sent back a sad face image. 

"Yeah, I figured he should be around people his own age," Hastur said. 

"Technically Crowley is his age," Ligur said, and laughed at the _look _Hastur gave him. 

"I want them far away from each other," Hastur growled, "The way he talks about that 'angel'?"

"If that were our boy," Ligur said, and Hastur shook his head. "Not thinking about it." He said. 

So they didn't. 

\-----

"I hope they like me," Aziraphale said, absent-mindedly picking at the bow on the present he was bringing. 

"I don't think it's possible for someone to dislike you," Crowley replied, pulling into his parking space. He was rewarded by a bashful smile from Aziraphale, who hid his face in his wine. 

"Oh, stop it," He said. 

"I mean it, and you didn't have to bring anything," Crowley said, "They wouldn't expect it." 

"I always bring a red velvet cake to my parent's office," Aziraphale said, "I just hope they like it here-" His voice cut off as they got out of the car. 

"Crowley," Aziraphale asked, "Is the city hosting one giant party in one precinct?" 

They went up the elevator together, and Aziraphale was struck by the familiar building. One that he had spent half his childhood in. But surely Anthony was on a different floor from his parents? 

"No, it's just the office," Crowley replied, and the doors _dinged_. 

_Interesting, _Aziraphale mused. He wondered if maybe Anthony knew his parents. Sure enough, they had reached the precinct. Aziraphale was amused. 

"You didn't tell me you worked at the 66," He said, smiling. Crowley shrugged. 

"Didn't think it mattered," He said, and went forward to open the door for Aziraphale, who smiled at him. He walked in, shifting the cake to one hand so he could give his Aunt Dagon a wave. She went to return it, and froze. 

"Do you know her?" Crowley asked, and Aziraphale made to set the cake down. 

"Of course," He started to say, but Gabriel had intercepted them. 

"Aziraphale!" He said, and to Crowley's shock he pulled his boyfriend - which was a word they were using - into a giant hug. "I didn't think you were coming!"

"Uncle Gabriel!" Aziraphale chastised, and Crowley's jaw dropped. Uncle? "The cake!" 

"Oh, sorry!" Gabriel - Uncle Gabriel? - set the cake down for him, and then pulled him into another hug. 

"I haven't seen you since Thanksgiving, which is not fair." 

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale laughed, returning the hug, "I've been focused on school, and well. Uncle Gabriel, this is AJ." With that, he gestured to Crowley, who was feeling very alarmed. 

Slowly, Gabriel turned to look at him, and his eyes widened. "...AJ..." He said, slowly, as if he had never seen him before. "You're.... AJ." 

"How do you know Aziraphale?" Crowley asked, not liking the way that Gabriel's face was contorting between shock and horror. 

"Do you two work together?" Aziraphale asked, missing the way they were gaping at each other. "Anthony, this is my Uncle Gabriel. He's one of my godparents."

One of...

Shit. 

"You're AJ?" Gabriel hissed, and now other people were looking at them. 

Crowley made several noises, none of which were English. "This is your-"

Gabriel then let go of Aziraphale to grab Crowley's arm, and drag him off. Left at the snack table, Aziraphale blinked after them. He reached down to grab a carrot, trusting they would work out whatever was going on. 

"Ow," Crowley hissed, "Ow Ow fuck Gabriel what are you-"

"Do you know what the fuck you did?" Gabriel hissed, looking furious. 

"No!" Crowley answered, rubbing his arm. 

"That's my godson!" Gabriel said, "That's Hastur and Ligur's kid!" 

The world around Crowley went mute. "What?" He said, "No. No. No. No way, they're kid is little - the photos- it's a ten year old!"

"Does that look like a ten year old to you?" Gabriel snapped, turning him around to look at Aziraphale. "I'm telling you. That's their kid." 

Sure enough, Crowley even saw Hastur walk over to the table, and pull Aziraphale into a hug. And slowly, he started to see the last month in a new light. Talking about his angel. All the words he had said. "Fuck." 

\----

Aziraphale, meanwhile, had poured himself some punch, because Awncle Bee always made the best punch. That was when he saw one of his dads, and his face lit up. 

"Hey bunny," Hastur said, giving him a hug, "I thought you had plans with AJ tonight, did something happen?"

"Oh no," Aziraphale replied, handing his dad a cup, "Turns out he works here! You probably know him." 

Hastur blinked at him. "I don't think I know an AJ here." 

"Well it's a little nickname I gave him," Aziraphale said, "It's his initials - Anthony James Crowley." 

Hastur was frozen, rooted to the spot. His eyes panned across the room, and they met Crowley's. He was staring right back at him, with terror. Slowly, like a man headed to his own execution, Crowley walked back over to them. Aziraphale was completely oblivious. "Anthony! There you are," He smiled at him. "I think you know my Papa?" He caught Anthony's face, and his own fell. "Dearest, what's wrong?" He then looked over at Hastur, "What's wrong with you?" Why did they both look so upset? The last time he saw his papa that upset that been, well. A long time ago. 

"Do you two work together?" He asked again, and several sputtering noises that were not English left Crowley's mouth.

"Daddy?" 

And without thinking, because Crowley was an _idiot_, he said, "Yes?" at the same time as Hastur. Hastur's eyes _flamed_ at him, and Crowley wanted to die. 

"Dad - Anthony - what's going on?" Aziraphale asked, blushing furiously. He hadn't expected that reaction from his boyfriend! It had only been one time!

"_This_ is Anthony?" Hastur hissed at him. "This is AJ?" 

"Yes!" Aziraphale had said, "How do you know each other?"

"We work together," Crowley said faintly. He could see steam coming out of Hastur's ears.

"Not for much longer," He growled, and Aziraphale pouted at him. "Well there's no need for such threats daddy," He said, sternly. 

"Bunny?" A new voice added, "What are you doing here?" 

And no - oh no. Crowley thought. _Shit-shit-shit_\-  If Hastur was mad, which of course he _was_ \- Ligur was going to be _furious_. 

They had even - and this was the hilarious part that was not going to be funny to Crowley for a long time - _talked_ about their son. They had ever since Crowley had started working there - 

Ligur had never had patience for him, ever since he said the stupid thing about their kid - Aziraphale? - not being a talented artist. Or making stupid comments about the toddler in bow-ties and collared shirts. Only Crowley had gone one step worse, because he had bragged about getting his back scratched up by the same kid they defended with their lives and refused to tell him about! 

Ligur came up to them, confused as to why Beelzebub had their phone out, and Gabriel looked like he was in pain. 

"What's going on?" Ligur repeated, "Bunny, I thought you had plans with AJ?" 

They called him bunny still. Crowley was going to die. 

"_Anthony James Crowley_," Hastur hissed and a rush of _emotions_ crossed Ligur's face as a horrifying puzzle came together. 

In a calm, deadly voice, Ligur said, "You've been sleeping with our son." 

Again, Crowley made several noises that could not be translated into any language. 

"And you said - you gave details!" Hastur yelled. 

"Daddy stop shout- wait  _ details _ ?" Aziraphale whirled around to stare at Crowley. "Anthony, what  _ details _ ?"

"Stop calling him that!" Ligur yelled, pulling Aziraphale closer to him. But his son shrugged him off. 

"Anthony what are they talking about?"

"Crowley bragged about you," Beelzebub was grinning madly. This was the best present they had ever received. Oh definitely, Beelzebub was furious. Crowley? With their godkid? When had the two even met? But this was _too_ good. "Say, Crowley, what did you tell me about my godkid again?" 

" _ Ngk- _ " Crowley stammered, " _ Godkid _ ?"

"He said that he surprisingly flexible," Dagon reminded them, and Aziraphale glared at Crowley. " _ Surprisingly _ ?" He asked, while Ligur angrily choked out, " _ Flexible _ ?" 

"Ungk-"

It was only due to Crowley's years on the force and academy that gave him the skill to dodge the punch that Hastur sent his way. 

"Dad stop!" Aziraphale demanded, but he was the only one trying to prevent the fight. He lunged forward to try and get in the middle, but Ligur pulled him back and gripped onto him tightly. Others were laughing at the absurdity, some, like Beelzebub, were trying to capture the whole thing on film. 

"You bragged about calling him a slut!" Hastur yelled.

"I told you that in private!" Crowley roared to Gabriel and Beelzebub, still trying to fight off Hastur. 

"STOP." 

It was Captain Michael. Her voice rang out sharply, causing everyone to halt. Crowley had a hand over his eye, where Hastur had landed a punch. 

"All of you," She barked, "This behavior is unacceptable. You are all officers of the force and are supposed to be role models for the community. This conduct is unbecoming of you all."

"Crowley's been sleeping with Aziraphale," Gabriel said, and that made Michael pause. 

She then took in Crowley, grabbing at his eye. Hastur, looking furious and rubbing his fist. Ligur, who was holding Aziraphale back. And Aziraphale, looking distraught and embarrassed. 

"... I see." 

\------

Michael, a true officer, demanded that Hastur, Ligur, and Crowley each explain themselves in turn. The party, due in part to the resolve of the force that didn't want to get back to work, was still going on. 

Aziraphale had tried to leave, but Gabriel and Beelzebub kept him there. 

"C'mon sunshine," Gabriel said gently, "You know Michael's going to want to talk to you too." 

"Auntie Michael isn't my boss," Aziraphale pouted. "And I'm mad at all of them." 

"Yeah, they're idiots," Beelzebub agreed. "But we'll make you a spiked hot chocolate." They ignored Gabriel's glare. It got Aziraphale to agree to stay anyway. 

"What?" They said, when Gabriel didn't stop glaring. "He's twenty-one now! We were all at his birthday last year." 

Beelzebub's attitude as godparent had always been to go soft. Michael, his other godparent, had been sterner. So they had to balance each other. While Michael did the balanced thing and reprimanded Hastur, Ligur, and Crowley, Beelzebub got their godkid tipsy. 

It was all about the balance. Unlike his parents, Aziraphale was a lightweight. It was easy enough to get him tipsy, just like he had been when he turned twenty-one. 

"Do you like Crowley?" Dagon asked, handing him one of the cookies she made, "Because... I want to know why." 

"I love Anthony," Aziraphale hiccuped, and then looked horrified. "Don't tell him! I was gonna tell him tonight," but he looked devastated. "But now I won't get to 'cause my dads are gonna ground me." 

"They're not going to ground you," Gabriel groaned. He loved Aziraphale with all his heart, but he could be exasperating. "Aziraphale, you are twenty-one. You are graduating college. You're going to be your own person. You can't just let your parents ground you because they don't like your boyfriend."

Aziraphale gaped at him. The idea hadn't occurred to him. He blinked owlishly. "You're right!" He declares, wobbling to his feet. "I'm gonna tell them that!" 

"Stupid," Beelzebub hissed at Gabriel, pulling Aziraphale back to sit. "No. You're not going interrupting your Auntie Michael from yelling at your dads. That really will get you in trouble." 

"Okay," Aziraphale said, already distracted by watching the rest of the office exchange the Secret Santa gifts. Dagon and Beelzebub gave Aziraphale two, under instruction they were for his parents. He smiled and promised his would hand them over later. 

"We didn't bring your gifts," Gabriel said apologetically, "Because we thought you were with AJ."

"I thought I was with AJ too," Aziraphale complained, "But he's been gone all night." 

Dagon snorted, as the door opened. Michael came out, followed by Hastur, Ligur, and Crowley. Aziraphale waved, swaying into the motion. 

"Why did you get my son drunk?" Ligur asked Beelzebub. 

"'kept him from running away." Was the answer he got. 

"I can't believe you didn't know," Dagon snickered, and Crowley glared at her. "It's not like we exchanged family stories!" 

"No, you were too busy exchanging  _ other  _ things," Hastur snapped. 

"Hastur," Michael warned, and he fell silent. 

Aziraphale leaned into him, looking very sad and completely melting his heart. "Daddy, are you mad at me?" 

Fuck. Hastur was too soft. "No bunny, of course not." 

"Good, because I was going to steal your present if you were," Aziraphale said, and Ligur let out a laugh. 

The rest of the party was the most uncomfortable experience of Crowley's life, as he was given a shovel talk by an impressive number of officers that, up until that night, had all just been his coworkers. But apparently, they were Aziraphale's entire family. When Aziraphale told him that his family was in the police, he really had meant his _entire _family. 

It would seem that he had a lot to learn. 


	2. June-October, 1993 (Aziraphale is an infant)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look back at how Hastur and Ligur find and adopt Aziraphale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much! I know this is a wacky story idea and I am so excited this got such an encouraging response! I promise I'll reply to comments, it's just that I get about an hour a day if I'm lucky to write so I'm trying to make the most of it by creating content for y'all.

_ “Do cops help people?” _

Hastur LaVista joined the police force as soon as he graduated high school. He had gone through the two year program, graduated as an officer of the force, and served his city faithfully ever since. That had been part of who he was - was half of who he was. The other half of himself was in Ligur Fell, another police officer. Ligur had been part of the force as long as he had. He had immigrated to the United States at seventeen, and went straight into the training. Through the program he became a full citizen, and got to meet Hastur. 

They joined together, they served together, they lived together. Ligur had never been in a relationship before, he hadn’t had the freedom to express any romantic feelings. But when he met Hastur he knew that he had found someone that he could depend on - someone he could spend the rest of his life with. He had grown up surrounded by a large extended family, but had to be the sole person to leave his home and strike out. For years he had been alone. And then he met Hastur. Having another person that he could exchange looks with - to rely on - to love. And Hastur loved him. He had moved away from his own family and joined the force a way to break away. They banded together and stayed together - just the two of them. It was an unspoken promise between them, both without anyone else to rely on. 

Technically, they were in a common-law marriage because they had “ _ co-habitated _ ” for ten years, but that was because of stupid prejudices that wouldn’t let them marry. But they had each other, and had always had each other. So they didn’t need a stupid piece of paper from a stupid government to tell them what they could call each other. Of course, they did swear to uphold the rules of that stupid government, but that was neither hear nor there. 

Fundamentally, they both believed in the meaning behind the badge. That they should be trusted to uphold the law and protect people who couldn’t protect themselves. That if they weren’t the ones doing it, well, who else  _ would _ ? Who else was worthy of that kind of trust? 

They had both served in the 66 upon finishing their training. Their first captain had been an asshole. When he had found out they were living in a one bedroom apartment, and not as a way to save money, he had given them terrible shifts, horrible cases, and didn’t hold back on the slurs. He retired after several years, and neither felt the need to contribute to his retirement party. 

Their new police chief, Michael, was one of the first woman to hold a major leadership position in the force. Hastur, as a sergeant, should have been promoted, but he let it pass him over because he or Ligur would have had to move precincts, and neither wanted that. Chief Michael was stern, but fair. She kept a very stoic presence, and was not interested in being their “friend” but their boss. They could respect that. 

One of her latest major projects had been in taking down a series of drug dens in the city. She had been in charge of several different teams that took down smaller cells, all in the hopes of finding the notorious ‘Hell’s Angels’ base of operations. They used yiddish in their code. As someone fluent, Ligur got tapped into decoding and was promoted to Lieutenant for his efforts. Shortly after resuming command of their station, Tadfield 66, she had reason to believe she had found that base. So she led their entire force to charge the gates, and, sure enough, they found it. There was fighting, but the drug lords were quickly overwhelmed by the police. 

Little did Hastur of Ligur know, taking part in that raid would be the most important day of their lives. 

They had moved in with the rest, arresting everyone they found there to bring in for questioning. This was the worst part for them both, because they were left to find the victims of the  _ whole _ trade - kids that were coerced to dealing, people with debts that relied on protection, women in unhealthy relationships that were forced into the life. 

Hastur approached one of these women. She was bedraggled, curly blonde hair unkempt, and cheeks sunken. Her eyes were dilated and he knew she wasn’t sober. The gray in her hair made her look older then he suspected she really was. There was a bundle cradled in her arms, that she was hunched over. 

“Ma’am,” he said, keeping his voice low, “I need you to set that down and give me your wrists.”

She whimpered, pulling the bundle closer to her. Hastur winced, but repeated himself. “I don’t want to force you,” He added. He shouldn’t be giving this warning - around him other officers were  _ not _ being as kind. Many were pulling people along. “But you have to come with me.” 

“I can’t-” She stammered, “You have to help me. You have to help him. You're a  _ cop. _ Do cops help people?” 

That question stopped him.  _ Do cops help people?  _

It made him pause, and swallow. That had been the question, hadn’t it. He went into this job because he  _ did _ believe that. It was hard to remember though, especially in moments like this. 

“We try. I try.” He answered. “That’s what keeps me going.” 

She stared at him. Even though she wasn’t fully aware, there was something intense in her eyes that seemed to pierce him. There was something she was searching for. He was supposed to be cuffing her. But he wasn’t. 

Whatever she was looking for, however, she seemed to find. 

“If you believe that, then you need to take him.” And with that, she pushed the bundle into his arms. Reflexively, his hands went up to take it, and to his surprise there was a subtle weight. 

It wasn’t drugs. It wasn’t a weapon. 

It was a  _ baby _ . 

A small one - only a couple weeks old, if he had to guess. He arms moved to better support the infant. 

“His name is Aziraphale,” The woman said, and tears streamed down his face. “ _ You _ need to take care of him.”

She didn’t mean the proverbial  _ ‘you’ _ , as in ‘ _ your people need to take care of him _ ’. She meant ‘ _ you, Hastur _ ’ not that she knew who he  _ was _ .

“It doesn’t work like that,” He said, but Hastur could feel his own resolve weakening. A  _ baby.  _ He had  _ always _ wanted one - granted, he never really thought he and Ligur would ever get one. They were a mixed race interfaith gay couple in a state that hadn’t passed marriage equality yet. And he hadn’t really brought it up with his ‘common law husband’. Though he and Ligur never had secrets - he suspected his partner  _ knew _ . 

The infant -  _ Aziraphale _ \- whimpered, and Hastur instinctively  _ shushed _ him, trying to keep him calm despite the surrounding chaos. It was a miracle he wasn’t screaming with all the commotion. “It’s alright,” He soothed to the baby, “It’s going to be alright.” 

The woman approved. “You’ll help him. And take care of him. I’ll work with you in exchange if you  _ promise _ me you’ll take care of him.” 

In no way could Hastur make that promise, but Hastur wasn’t thinking clearly when he said yes. He couldn’t take his eyes off the baby, who was still whimpering and started to cry. Hastur gently shushed him again, trying to rock him back and forth. 

“Ma’am, you need to come with me,” Ligur had approached them both, confused at what was holding up his husband. Of course, he realized what was happening the moment he got to them. Hastur was about as subtle as a brick wall when it came to babies - he was too fucking soft. Of course he would find the  _ one _ person there with one. 

“I’m trusting him with you,” She said, still looking at Hastur as Ligur placed her in cuffs. Ligur cast him a confused look, but Hastur was nodding while he cooed to the baby. 

Ligur didn’t know what was happening, but he had a sinking feeling that his life was going to change. And he was usually right about these fucking things. 

\----

It turned out that Ligur was right about these fucking things. 

Hastur had made a promise to an addict to look after her baby, and he took that promise seriously. After Ligur had placed her in the cop car, he tried to get Hastur to give the baby up to the doctors and the ambulance that arrived, but Hastur wouldn’t let him go. It was how Ligur found himself in the back of an ambulance with his partner to take a baby they had just met to the hospital. Michael wouldn’t approve, but she was overseeing too many people for them to feel the need to check in with her. They didn’t really like following orders anyway - it’s not even like they had been with their captain for long enough to feel a sense of overwhelming loyalty. Their captain before Michael had been a total asshole, and they had resolved to doing their own thing no matter what. 

At one point, Ligur found himself taking the baby to try and calm him down because nothing Hastur was doing was working. He looked down at this tiny thing, that for all he knew had been born  _ yesterday _ he was so little, and rocked him slowly. For some reason, the child settled for him. 

“His name is Aziraphale,” Hastur said, “That’s what the woman said. Don’t know what kind of name that is.” 

“Means  _ ‘comfort’ _ ,” Ligur answered, “Or, ‘ _ one who God comforts, or heals _ ’. Pretty fucking ironic for the little bugger.” 

The EMT gave them a glare at the language. They didn’t have anything that could help an infant on-hand, which felt like an oversight, but it meant that they didn’t have to hand him over. Which was good. For Hastur’s sake. Obviously. 

Ligur was still holding him. 

“She wanted us to look after him.” Hastur said, smoothing a thumb around his tiny cheek. “That we had to help him.” 

“We can’t take in a baby,” Ligur said. But he said it in the way that one would say,  _ “I should volunteer more,” _ or, " _ I've thought of taking up yoga _ ," or, “ _ I’m doing well, thanks _ .” He didn’t believe it. 

“What makes  _ us _ different than  _ anyone _ else?” Hastur snapped, knowing full well what the answer was. “Why  _ shouldn’t _ we?” 

Hastur was a stubborn motherfucker. It was one of the things Ligur loved about him. Right now, it made loving him difficult. 

Because Hastur didn’t let it go. He made them stay with Aziraphale while he got admitted to the hospital. They used their sway as officers to spend as much time as they could in the NICU, despite not being his parents. And through it all, Ligur offered half-hearted reasons that they couldn’t take in a baby. But Hastur had a counter for every one. Whatever had been exchanged between him and that woman, it had convinced him that  _ this _ was their calling. 

Something in his heart went out to the baby, anyway. It was too sad. How were they the only two who could watch over him? A peek at his birth record yielded no extended family. His mother, named Ruth, was listed along with Arnold Cohen as his father. The father’s name stuck out to them. Hastur took the certificate as evidence, though it made him feel sick to do so. The hospital gave him a copy, and let him fax it to Michael. 

He came back to see Ligur holding Aziraphale, gently cooing to him. For a moment, he said nothing. Just watched them and smiled. Ligur finally seemed to notice him, and tried to pretend he hadn’t just been holding the baby like it was his. 

But he couldn’t kid himself. They had imprinted. Like fucking ducks. 

The next four months became a whirlwind as they committed themselves to adopting him. Going through the legal system was a  _ nightmare _ , one that made them  _ despise _ lawyers. The city rejected their case, and they counter-sued, going to the state government. They went through a  _ brutal _ scuitiny, and their colleagues got pulled into it too as character witnesses. 

Michael, to their surprise, helped vouch for them. She even called in a rare favor to help. Their other colleagues, Dagon and Beelzebub, pitched in too. Hastur and Ligur had helped Beelzebub change their pronouns on all government forms, had even helped Beelzebub navigate all the hoops and red tape people had tried to place on them, and they felt that they owed a favor. And when Dagon came out when she joined their force as office manager, Ligur punched a cop that called her a slur and posited that she just hadn’t  _ had the right man yet.  _ So she felt that she owed a favor too. 

Ruth, the woman who gave him to them, helped testify and used her position to negotiate an expedited adoption process for them. She also gave a lot of information about Arnold - who was the ringleader of ‘Hell’s Angels'. Rather then bargain for her own immunity, she used it to urge the courts to give Hastur and Ligur full custody. 

“If you give him to me, or the system,” She said, “He’ll grow up to be like his father. They’re the  _ only _ two,” and she pointed at Hastur and Ligur, “Who will make sure he stays  _ safe _ .” 

It was hard to say who’s testimony proved the most helpful. But after four months, on Halloween, Ligur and Hastur  _ finally _ were given full permission to legally call Aziraphale their child. It was a ‘joint-custody’ adoption, because they weren’t legally married. For the first time, it bothered them, but that was a shadow in the wake of finally getting to take him  _ home _ . 

Aziraphale, in the meantime, had been placed in an orphanage run by nuns. They belonged to the  _ Chattering Order of St. Beryl _ , and were an odd bunch of ladies. Aziraphale was there with several other babies, just one in nearly twenty. When Ligur or Hastur didn’t have to appear in court, or work, they were at that stupid nursery, bullying whoever was in charge to let them stay with him. It turned out that Aziraphale was really  _ two months _ old, and was stunted from neglect. He needed special care and attention that he couldn't get in that nursery. It made the whole process that much more agonizing, because how did it make sense that Hastur and Ligur needed go through such harsh scrutiny when Aziraphale had lived in such a terrible place before they found him, and no one had ever checked his home life before they led a drug raid? Or how now, he was in an overcrowded nunnery getting  _ acceptable  _ care but not enough? And here were two people that did want him, and love him, and they couldn't? And  _ their _ home had to be surprise-inspected time and time again to be deemed worthy enough?

At first, the nuns were suspicious and unwilling to let them see him, but through sheer persistence and nagging they won them over. Different nuns ended up showing them how to provide basic care, which was good supplemental material to the parenting classes they went to. Over time, the nuns went from suspicious, to civil, to enamoured. After the first couple of weeks, Hastur and Ligur didn't even need to cajole, threaten, or beg, they just got to visit. Whoever was in charge of the nursery would just let them take Aziraphale for as long as they could stay with him. Through all the stress of navigating the adoption bureaucracy, of having to go to court and plead their case on top of their already demanding jobs, visits to actually  _ see  _ Aziraphale was a helpful way to remember that this was for him.

Holding him became a major point of stress relief for Hastur specifically. He was trying to quit smoking, a habit he could no longer keep up if they were trying to bring home an infant. Ligur was proud - granted, he and Hastur used to smoke  _ together  _ but for Hastur it had been an addiction. Ligur never cared one way or another, but the two were starting to learn some disturbing facts about smoking, especially around newborns and children. Not wanting to dash their chances at adoption, or bring a baby that had been born into a home with drugs into a place just as potentially dangerous, Hastur made the decision on his own to quit. 

Withdrawal was a  _ bitch.  _ Hastur was temperamental, moody, and irritable. It pushed Ligur nearly to the end of his own patience to go through court proceedings with Azrael, and adding a partner who was moody and irritable on his own nearly pushed him over the edge. But then they would go to the orphanage, bother the nuns, and hold the baby. And Aziraphale would look up with his big blue eyes, or settle on their chests, or even  _ smile  _ at them, and they would remember that it was going to be worth it if it meant that they would bring him home at the end of all this. Even if they had to see Azrael everyday. 

Azrael. The worst part in the whole proceedings. He worked for the city, and had been one of the attorneys to deny the initial adoption case. His  _ job _ was to make sure Aziraphale went to a ' _ worthy home _ ' but he seemed determined to kill any future the three could have. That had been a rant Dagon made after he questioned her, when they were talking about the case at work. Even Michael, usually such a stickler for rules, didn't begrudge her for the unprofessionalism. After that rant, they gave him a new nickname -  _ Death _ . 

It was something for them to whisper to each other at their precinct,  _ never _ say out loud. Especially in court. But it helped when they were particularly frustrated at the slow pacing. 

Finally. Finally. Everything came to a head on October 30th, when they were finally given (technically joint) custody of Aziraphale. For the rest of his life, Ligur would remember the sound of the gavel hitting the bench as one of the best noises of his life. 

Hastur even cried. So did he, but he'd punch anyone foolish enough to say. 

But it meant that on October 31st they got to sign all necessary paperwork and take Aziraphale  _ home.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	3. February, 1994 (Aziraphale is ten months old)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur and Ligur learn how to be parents.
> 
> Aziraphale learns how to be a child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I've been super sick, but I'm finally feeling like a human person again and I'm celebrating with this chapter.

Taking care of an infant full time was incredibly difficult. Hastur and Ligur took a week off together once the adoption was finally processed to try and bond more with Aziraphale. There was research that told them "co-sleeping", keeping the crib in their room, near them, was effective for babies that have been through trauma. And Aziraphale had definitely been through trauma. But for the most part they were flying by the seat of their pants. 

Neither knew how to properly care for an infant, and there wasn't really a way to look up information quickly to know what to do if Aziraphale wouldn't stop crying, even if nothing seemed wrong. Not that he even cried that loudly. If Aziraphale got upset, or needed something, his face would contort unhappily and he would let out little whimpers. Clearly, he had learned that crying loudly never got him anything. Which was  _ chilling _ . So they had to figure out how to listen closely for small gasping noises that would tell them Aziraphale needed something. 

None of their coworkers knew what to do either, because none of them had kids. Eventually Michael found promising research to show that Aziraphale was probably attention and touch starved, and subconsciously didn't trust them to stay with him. As evidenced by a father that didn't seem to care of him, or a mother that had admitted to nearly  _ selling _ him before the raid. 

That had been rough to learn - and Hastur had been  _ furious _ . Ligur had never seen his husband so  _ angry  _ before, and had forced Aziraphale’s birth mother into agreeing to a closed adoption - no contact, and no relationship whatsoever unless Aziraphale wanted to know more about her when he was eighteen. To Ligur’s surprise, she had agreed. Ruth was open to accepting she had been unfit to raise Aziraphale - evidenced by admitting to nearly selling him, and then entrusting him to the first authority figure that seemed upstanding. And not always responding when he needed things. It made Ligur’s skin crawl. Hastur was vicious to her, in the end, even though her testimony had probably been the deciding factor in the adoption case. 

But all that to say that Aziraphale was touch-starved, and even as a newborn didn’t expect affection or parental guidance. He could be fussy, and difficult to soothe throughout the night. It was an exercise in patience and commitment. 

After that week, they started trading off who went to work and who stayed home with him, based on who was needed at the precinct when. Getting Aziraphale into the building’s daycare was turning out to be almost as much of a headache as the lawsuit to adopt him had been. The manager of the daycare didn’t want to acknowledge their adoption, and was pulling out every minute rule to belay the process. Michael was starting to get involved - wanting her officers in the office, not splitting so much of their time away. She also didn’t believe it was right to keep stonewalling them. It didn’t matter what her motivation was - what mattered was that she was helping. 

Dagon also pitched in. She was young, but genuinely liked Aziraphale. Sometimes she would come to their apartment after work and hold him while they would run errands. Stress relief was the blase answer she would give when they thanked her, but, again, they didn’t give a shit what the motivation was as long as she was agreeing to help. 

Beelzebub was also a competent babysitter, for all they claimed to hate children and infants. Hastur could always trust Beelzebub to look after the baby.

“Don’t worry,” Beelzebub had said, calmly. “If anything ever happened to him, I would murder everyone and then myself.” 

And it was a testament to how overwhelmed he was as a new parent that Hastur merely said, “Alright,” and went to pick up dinner. 

The easiest adjustment for them was the lack of sleep - they had both worked night and day shifts simultaneously before, as a result of their previous homophobic boss, and they had always kept weird hours. Power naps had been in their lives before, and it was easy enough to go back to them. 

Once they perfected a soothing technique, which really just consisted of cradling the baby close and talking to him (it was unclear whether he could understand what they are saying, or that he enjoyed the vibrations from their chests), Aziraphale was an easy enough baby. He was bad at sleeping, both falling and staying asleep, but so were they so it was a fair trade. Once Aziraphale started to get food regularly, his weight quickly got to where it was  _ supposed  _ to be. 

Ligur and Hastur had both assumed he was a few weeks old when they first met him - this was wrong. He had been two  _ months  _ old, which made Hastur want to fly into another rage. But once he started getting regular meals, he quickly became a chubby baby, which was  _ adorable.  _ Ligur never thought he would be one of those sappy parents who couldn’t stop taking photos of their kid, but he had been wrong before. 

People could tease all they wanted, but he couldn’t help it if his kid is the cutest one that existed. 

Whenever he had to go to work, he kept a photo of Aziraphale in his wallet. Hastur had one from the day they took him home framed at his desk. It sits next to one of the first photos of him they ever had. During the court case, when he had been going through the worst of the withdrawal, Beelzebub in a rare show of sympathy had made him a frame saying  _ ‘Do it for him’, _ as a reminder of why he was quitting smoking. 

One officer teased them for going ‘soft’ and putting up photos, but Beelzebub nearly beat them with a bat. The rest of the squad quickly learned not to tease them, or bring Aziraphale up if they could help it. 

But Michael needed them both to work on a case, and they needed to find a sitter. Aziraphale did  _ not  _ want to go with the babysitter, but needs must. Hastur held him close and tried to explain, but his language comprehension was weak. He wasn't even speaking yet. 

Leaving a screaming infant with the poor teenager from upstairs had been among the worst experiences of Ligur's life, and one he never wanted repeated again. He buried himself in paperwork, and filing. Hastur was invested in the process as well - no one could fault them for their work ethic. For the next few hours they kept themselves focused on the work, and not the fact that there was a child who needed them. Work wasn't the most important thing anymore. They kept their heads down, because the sooner they could finish the sooner they could get home. 

For the next two hours that became their mantra. Then Ligur's phone went off. It was their sitter. 

Aziraphale hadn't stopped crying since they left, no matter what she tried. This was unusual - Aziraphale didn't like to make noise unless there was a point. He never cried for the sake of it. Distraught, she called her own mother who thought to take his temperature. 

It was a fever - a high one. 

"I wanted to let you know," She said. She was trying to stay calm, but Ligur was trained to pick up on subtle cues, and read into tone. Obviously, she was panicked. With good reason, because 102 was not an acceptable temperature for their baby. 

Ligur relayed the information to Hastur, who swore so profusely that Michael came out to reprimand them. Quickly, they explained what was happening, and she let them go. 

It wasn't that Aziraphale never had a fever before, he had. Infants, they had learned the hard way, got low grade fevers all the time. A few weeks after they brought him home, he ran a low grade fever. It was  _ terrifying.  _ They had called nurses and sat on hold until Dagon, who was coming over to help look after him, just laughed. 

"Babies run low grade fevers all the time. They're still figuring out how temperatures work in the real word. Give him a break," She then took Aziraphale, who stopped crying at the shock of someone new holding him. So they tried not to panic every time he ran a fever, and chalked it up to learning how to parent. 

But one hundred and two? That wasn't low. That was worryingly high. 

"Radio it in if it gets worse," Michael said, not looking annoyed despite this meaning more work for the rest of the precinct. Ligur thanked her, and they took off. Perhaps it was an abuse of privilege to use their police car to drive quickly, but this was their  _ child.  _

They made it home in record time, to greet their terrified babysitter. Aziraphale's fever had increased to 104 degrees. The time for wait and see was over, he needed to get to the hospital. Hastur sat with him in the back seat, nervously trying to coo at him. Aziraphale was barely coherent. He had been screaming over the phone, when the sitter had called them, but by the time they got home their son was too tired to scream. But he was so obviously upset and it tore at Hastur’s heart. 

Ligur was torn between a desire to speed to get to the hospital as quickly as he could, and a need to drive as safe as possible. It averaged out to driving firmly at the speed limit. 

They made it to the hospital, where a doctor was ready to see them right away. Only she made them relinquish their baby to an infant stretcher. The sight of Aziraphale, being rolled away from them, as he screamed in distress and pain was going to be in Ligur's nightmares for the rest of his life, he knew it. 

For an eternity, they were stuck waiting for any news. Aziraphale was being held in the NICU, and when Hastur and Ligur got to see him, they had to clean their hands thoroughly and wear gloves to try and comfort him at all. It was a rough couple of days. His fever got so high that organ failure became a phrase they heard a few times. At one point, he had a seizure, and both parents had to be removed because Hastur had  _ screamed _ and Ligur was faring no better. 

This couldn't be the end. They had fought so hard to adopt him, Aziraphale was trying so hard to trust them, they just couldn't  _ lose _ him like this. Not now. 

No parent should have to go through this.

Neither of them left the hospital. Hastur and Ligur slept in turns, and in short bursts. Michael, Beelzebub, and Dagon came in turns. They stayed for a few hours at a time, bringing snacks and food. Mostly they sat with them. Not much was said, there wasn't much to say.

But then, something miraculous started to happen. The fever began to lower. Aziraphale's condition started to stabilize. Doctor's stopped saying things like ‘potential organ failure’ or ‘worse case scenario. Instead they began to talk through recovery, medicines Aziraphale would need to get better, and follow up appointments. Because they were going to get to take him  _ home.  _

Getting to gently lift Aziraphale out of the little bed they had him in was one of the best moments of Hastur’s life. Aziraphale was incredibly cranky, and understandably so. Hastur gently shushed him, bringing him close against his chest. 

“It’s alright,” He whispered, very gently nosing his son’s curls, “I’m here, we’re taking you home today.” 

Aziraphale was ten months old, and Hastur wasn’t sure if he could understand what he was saying. But he did settle against his chest, and Hastur could feel himself melt at the fact that he could encourage his son to relax, and that Aziraphale would relax against him. 

During the drive home from the hospital, Ligur kept a snail’s pace, out of fear of going over any bumps on the road an upsetting their kid. Cars honked and people yelled out their windows as they were passed, but neither officer cared. Finally, after four days, they were all back home. It was Ligur’s turn to carry him inside, and he had never seen his son fall asleep so readily against chest. 

  
The recovery after was important for all three of them. Ligur and Hastur had been so scared that they were going to lose their son. Aziraphale’s crib was in arm’s reach of the bed. He started crying frequently throughout the night, but neither parent minded. It meant that he was okay, and able to ask for help. He was more expressive. Still a quiet child, but on average started to make more noise. It was a sign that he trusted them, and was learning to rely on them to take care of him, and actually  _ be  _ his parents. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think :)


	4. April 5, 1994 (Aziraphale is One year old)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Aziraphale's godparents handle the baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!! It's totally and entirely possible for me to write a chapter without angst :) We have a one year old!!!! And we're meeting Uncle Gabriel!

When he was at work, Ligur was focused. He was _excellent_ at staying on task, moving from one project to the next, and maintaining a tight discipline. Michael, as captain, shouldn’t have favorites on her squad. But his focus and attitude on the job made him her favorite. Beelzebub was a close second because they were efficient as well - but if the printer jammed sometimes they would grab their bat and attack it. Michael allowed it because they would replace it, and it was a way for them to work off their aggression that sometimes came with the job. 

Hastur was another story. He was fidgety, and kept moving from one half-finished job to the next. Sometimes he let Dagon distract him, or he would try to distract Ligur. If there was _ever_ a leak in the office, he _refused_ to do any work until someone from maintenance would come and fix the drainage. He would make a big show of moving a bucket to where the dripping came from, and complain loudly to anyone who would listen about how he _couldn’t work in these conditions. _

This was why, obviously, Michael couldn't let them watch Aziraphale at work. They had  _ jobs _ to do. But they couldn't afford a full time babysitter every day, that would have been ridiculous. And the daycare center in the building was still being ridiculous about accepting him, so sometimes he had to stay in their precinct with them. 

It was for that reason and that reason  _ only _ that Aziraphale was sitting in his mobile rocking chair in her office while she worked. He bounced and wiggled while she filled out reports. But he was a quiet child, and thankfully not very distracting. And she enjoyed having someone to share her ideas and theories with about bettering the city they lived in. 

"My role as Captain," She said to him, "Is to protect and serve the people in this community. I've been thinking of some initiatives to help people feel closer to us." 

Aziraphale blinked at her, and then smiled. 

"Thank you, I think it's a good idea too," Michael said. "I've been thinking of an annual summer barbecue, with games. Other precincts could compete, and it would of course be open to civilians. Would you go?" 

Aziraphale didn't reply, but he wasn't speaking yet so she wasn't deterred. He did kick and wiggle, so she took that as a good sign. She leaned down to pick him up, because usually wiggling meant he was happy and wanted to be held. He _cooed_ at her, and settled easily enough in her arms. 

Michael had worked hard to get to where she was. She knew perfectly well that the other,  _ male  _ captains all called her an  _ ice  _ bitch. But that wasn’t true. Especially now, when she was holding her godchild. He was so  _ cuddly _ . It was hard to remember how stressful her day to day job was while she held him. 

"Thank you Aziraphale," She said, "I’m glad to have your support.” 

\-------

Beelzebub did not have patience for stupid people. There was a new hire in the precinct: Gabriel. They remembered Gabriel from the academy. He was a stellar cop. But a bit of a righteous, holier-than-thou prick and his attitude had only grown more extreme. He didn’t seem to know what to make of a baby frequenting the office, and always looked so _annoyed_ to see Aziraphale. And they couldn’t  _ stand  _ that. Sure, the precinct was no place for an infant, but that wasn’t Aziraphale’s fault! He was only a baby. And he was _their_ godkid, and no godkid of Beelzebub’s was going to be treated like that. Even if he was attractive.

Beelzebub had been plenty terrified to watch Aziraphale for the first time. Hastur was supposed to watch him while Ligur got called to make a statement in court. But then a call came in and he was needed on a case he was in the middle of, and there was no way he could take Aziraphale with him. 

So he thrust Aziraphale to Beelzebub, who had all the delight of trying to calm an infant with parent separation anxiety. After an hour, Aziraphale had cried himself into a fitful sleep. Beelzebub held him while they did their own paperwork, and thankfully when he woke up, he didn’t seem interested in crying anymore. Instead, he just sat there with Beelzebub, and by the end of it he smiled for them and even reached for him when they had to set him down here and there. It was as if they had passed some sort of test. And when Hastur or Ligur needed to leave, Aziraphale hardly cried when Beelzebub had him now. That had been a few weeks ago, before he had that nasty sickness. He was doing much better now, though, and seemed to be excited to join his dads at work and see them all again. 

Which was why Hastur was holding him now, and bothering Beelzebub on their lunch break. 

“What do you want him to call you?” Hastur asked, trying to wrangle Aziraphale. He was in a good mood, and whenever the baby was in a good mood, he liked to wiggle around. It was _adorable_ but that made it difficult to hold him. 

“What are you talking about?” Beezlebub asked, distracted by the baby. They had a reputation to maintain for being a tough motherfucker, but when Aziraphale was wiggling about it was too tempting to smile and coo back at him. 

“When he starts talking,” Hastur explained, “Ligur and I are trying to figure out everyone’s titles. I’m ‘_daddy_’, Ligur is ‘_papa_’, Dagon and Michael are his aunts. But what do you want your title to- _ Aziraphale please sit still!”  _

But Aziraphale didn’t _want_ to sit still. He was in a great mood, clearly, and just really excited to be at the precinct and see everything. How could Hastur expect him to sit still?

“Alright, here, you take him,” Hastur said, gently thrusting his son to Beelzebub. As he traded hands, Aziraphale was so startled by the new vantage point of his dad that he stopped moving, staring between Hastur and Beelzebub in awe. 

Beelzebub snorted, adjusting him in their arms while Hastur scowled in jealousy. “Of course he behaves for you.” He grumbled. 

“He can call me the non-gendered relative,” Beelzebub said, looking Aziraphale in the eye. “Say, ‘_non-gendered relative_’ Aziraphale.” 

He didn’t reply, but he did smile at them. They snickered. “Worth a shot.” 

Aziraphale wasn’t really a speaker. Occasionally he would make cooing noises for one of his parents, but he liked to squirm and move when he was happy. If he needed something, or got upset, his entire face would scrunch in sadness. It was the worst sight in the world. Beelzebub always felt personally responsible, even though they never had anything to do with it. But still, it was nice when Aziraphale was in a good mood and content to just sit in their arms. 

They stood up, heading back to their desk to get some more work done. 

“What, are you keeping him now?” Hastur called over. From his perch in Beelzebub’s arms, Aziraphale giggled. 

“I need his help,” Beelzebub called over, sitting next to Gabriel, who looked annoyed. 

“He’s a _chubby_ baby. He can’t even read or write,” Gabriel grouched. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Beelzebub whispered to Aziraphale. “You’re perfect.” 

Aziraphale cooed at them, and they went back to their own paperwork with "help". 

\------

Dagon  _ loved  _ having a baby at the precinct. Once Aziraphale got enough food, and people to properly focus on helping him get all his food, he became such a  _ chubby _ little infant and Dagon wanted to just  _ eat him _ . She settled instead for babysitting as often as she could. The first time was difficult, because he cried when they were alone - he missed his daddies. But after he settled down, he was pliable and content to just sit in her arms while she made his food, or watched TV, or read aloud to him. As long as she talked, or kept him engaged, and let him wiggle, he was easy enough to take care of. 

But after he got home from the hospital, she realized that his birthday was coming up, and no one was  _ doing anything.  _

“This is his first birthday!” She complained to Ligur. “How are you not doing a party?”

Ligur stared blankly at her. “He’s not going to remember it,” He said, “Aziraphale has just started to realize that his name is Aziraphale.” As if to prove his point, Aziraphale looked up at them, most likely wondering why his name was coming up with them. 

“It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t remember,” Dagon said, “What matters is that you bring your friends and family together and celebrate this kid turning one!”

Aziraphale smiled up at them, and Ligur pressed a kiss to his curls. “I’m glad, really.” He said. It was difficult for him to realize that his hand could cover his son’s _entire_ back. The baby was so  _ little  _ and Ligur could hardly believe he and his partner were responsible for taking care of him. Maybe it _would_ be nice to celebrate him turning a year old. Especially considering where he came from, and how he was  _ safe  _ now. 

“I just, I don’t know who we’d invite,” Ligur admitted. “We only go to work and home.”

Dagon shrugged. “So invite us,” She said, “We’d be happy to go.” 

“That’s not going to be odd?” Ligur pressed, “Just having you, Beelzebub, and Michael?” 

“We can invite Gabriel,” Dagon suggested. 

Ligur snorted. “Hastur nearly tazed him the other day for insinuating that Aziraphale lose some weight.” 

“And he apologized!” 

Ligur barked out a laugh. Dagon glared at him. “What?”

“You  _ like _ him,” He snickered. And sure enough, Dagon flushed. 

“It’s not my fault,” Dagon protested, “I know he’s stupid. But. I got eyes alright? I can’t help if he’s attractive.” 

Ligur laughed. It had been the hardest he had laughed since Aziraphale had come back from the hospital. He tightened his grip on his baby, so Aziraphale didn’t fall off of him from the force of his laughter. However, as he started laughing, Aziraphale began laughing too. There was no way he understood what was happening, but he was encouraged by his papa laughing and was in the mood to copy him. Dagon huffed, annoyed by both of their reactions, but even she had to melt as Aziraphale laughed. 

“Alright, alright,” Ligur grinned, pressing another kiss to Aziraphale’s curls. “Aziraphale, are you okay if we invite Gabriel to your birthday party?” 

Aziraphale smiled at them, but he didn’t say no. 

\-------

Dagon threw herself into planning his birthday party. Hastur firmly told her that there was to be  _ no _ undue fuss, or else she would regret it. So Dagon settled for a simple affair after work. Michael, Beelzebub, and Gabriel had all agreed to stay for the party. Gabriel, obviously, was feeling pretty guilty and hadn’t put up much of a fight to agreeing to stay. Because this didn’t interfere with work hours, Michael had agreed. And for their part, Beezlebub had picked up Aziraphale and smirked. 

“Just _try_ and keep me away from his birthday,” They snickered, and Aziraphale giggled in their arms. 

Dagon had procured cupcakes. It would be cleaner than a cake, and everyone could get one. She managed to take a few cute photos of Aziraphale smashing a cupcake with his dads laughing behind him. There was also a cute photo of Hastur feeding him a chocolate cupcake, and his eyes going  _ wide _ at the taste. 

There were other photos too. Ones of Ligur and Michael talking and laughing about an inside joke. Some with Beezlebub flirting with Dagon, that Gabriel took. At one point, Dagon took the camera when Gabriel was coerced into holding Aziraphale. He fussed at first, he never liked to be taken by someone unfamiliar. But to everyone’s surprise, Gabriel was able to quickly soothe him. 

Aziraphale settled easily enough, and Gabriel had the gentlest  _ look _ on his face as he gazed at the baby. 

Dagon took photos, trying to fight back her own blush as she took in the sight of Gabriel cooing at the one-year-old. 

The birthday party was a resounding success, and not just because Aziraphale got to smash a cupcake - though he did _love_ getting to do that. The party helped demonstrate that their family was more than just Hastur, Ligur, and Aziraphale. They had Michael. They had Beezlebub. They had Dagon. And now, they even had Gabriel. 

After the party, Hastur and Ligur updated their own paperwork. It was customary for a child of officers to have more than two godparents, in case something happened. And the parents knew that Michael, Beezlebub, Dagon, and Gabriel would make an unbeatable team to look after their baby. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I'm hoping to get to the "present day", AKA right after the party, of the fic really soon.


	5. Aziraphale's Childhood in Three Acts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale's first word, his first companion, and his first wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been working on each of these separate parts for a long time, and finally just went "fuck it" and wanted to publish it all together. I hope that you like it!

At two years old, Aziraphale was able to sit up on his own and play with blocks on his little chair next to Hastur’s desk. Not needing any particular excuse not to work, and valuing time spent with his son over paperwork, Hastur was playing with him. 

“I prefer this to work,” Hastur said to his son, and ignored the soft laughs from Gabriel and Ligur. Aziraphale didn’t answer, but seemed perfectly content to play with the soft blocks. 

“I wonder what Aziraphale’s favorite toy is,” Ligur said, “So far he’s fine to play with whatever’s in front of him. But there’s _got_ to be a favorite toy or something.” 

Aziraphale didn’t answer, again. Both men exchanged looks, trying not to seem too worried in front of their son. Most babies were supposed to make simple words, like ‘_mama_’ and ‘_dada_’ at six months. They adopted Aziraphale at six months old, but he wasn’t exactly his most verbal at the time. Ever since he had been able to make cooing noises, laugh, and cry. He knew his name, and recognized his parents and godparents as adults to reach for and smile at. But speaking wasn’t something he was doing quite yet. 

Every doctor's appointment gave him great results, and by all accounts Aziraphale was a perfectly healthy child. He just… wasn’t speaking. 

Hastur told Aziraphale he would be right back, received no response, and moved closer to Ligur and Gabriel. “I’m worried about him,” He whispered, “Why isn’t he saying anything?” 

Ligur didn’t have an answer, but Gabriel seemed to pause. “This is going to sound crazy,” He said, “But Bee and Dagon have told me that I can’t just talk around them. They don’t know to say something unless I ask them directly. Have you… have you tried asking him questions?” 

“You’ve finally taken too many punches to the head,” Ligur deadpanned. “And now you’re done for.” He took a drink of water. 

Gabriel waved them off, determined to test his theory. He walked over, taking Hastur’s seat. “Hey, Aziraphale,” Gabriel began, his voice gentle, “Can you talk kiddo?” 

Aziraphale looked up at him, a little confused. “Yes, why?” He asked. Ligur choked on his water. 

“Bunny, have you been _talking_?” Ligur asked, and Aziraphale shrugged. 

“Sometimes.” 

Gabriel tried hard not to laugh, but he failed. “Who have you been talking to?” 

“Auntie Michael.” Aziraphale answered, and went back to his blocks. 

Ligur was torn between joy and fury. _Joy_, that his son had apparently been speaking and could talk in full sentences, and there was no cause to worry about his development. Hastur and Ligur had been worried, for a while, that because of the environment Aziraphale came from, that he was behind on milestones that he should have reached and it would affect his future. But he was so _mad_ at Michael for not saying anything. He stormed to her office, Hastur on his heels, interrupting her meeting with Dagon. 

“Aziraphale talks?” He snarled. Michael took a moment, realizing what they were upset about, and nodded. Dragon's jaw dropped. 

“He _talks_? And you _knew_?” Hastur, like a great husband, was also starting to get mad in support of his husband, “I was worried something was wrong!” 

Michael was unimpressed. “Aziraphale is a quiet child. He doesn’t start conversations. I’ve been speaking with him since the day he was left in my office when he was a baby. I ask questions, he started answering. The trick is not to make him feel uncomfortable.” 

“Unbelievable.” Ligur breathed. 

Dagon sniggered. "Can't believe you didn't know," she started to say, but fell silent when Hastur glared at her. 

“What other milestone are we going to miss?” Hastur grouched. 

“I’m pretty sure Beelzebub is going to teach him to drive. I don’t suggest telling them they can’t,” Michael said. Both fathers paused, and then agreed. 

Ligur took a deep breath. “Guess we need to make the baby book collaborative, so we don’t miss anything.” 

Hastur cocked his head at Michael. “What was his first word, anyway?” 

She paled, and both men narrowed their eyes at her. “Why are you looking like that?” Hastur demanded. 

Michael swallowed. “I think,” she said slowly, “The most important takeaway is that he’s perfectly able to speak.”

“What,” Ligur asked sharply, “Was. his. first. word?”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Finally, she took a deep breath. “I was… complaining about the brass. So… I said a _variety_ of things. And he said ‘bastard’, to agree with me. Which, honestly, was my best hope out of what else I said.” 

Hastur groaned. “He starts speaking, and his first word is to swear.” 

“I would have expected this from Hastur or Beelzebub, not you,” Ligur reflected, ignoring the ‘_hey_’ from his partner. Dagon nodded in agreement. 

“If it helps, I’ve been careful not to swear around him since,” She said, “But we’re all going to have to be careful. Aziraphale is an agreeable, delightful child, and he wants to imitate us. But if it’s any consolation, his second word was ‘book’ because I asked him what he wanted.” 

Thankfully, that did mollify them. 

\---

Just because Aziraphale was comfortable being watched by any one of his godparents did not mean he was comfortable being left with any adult. Aziraphale despised getting left at the daycare, and it made for a very uncomfortable transition period where he screamed when he got dropped off for the first two weeks. 

“I feel like a monster - like some fucking demon or something,” Hastur grumbled. His fists clenched and unclenched, in a way that Ligur knew meant that he wanted a cigarette. And Ligur agreed, he hated hearing Aziraphale cry, but he had to be the voice of reason.

“This is good practice for school,” Ligur reminded him, “And we get him back at two in the afternoon, when we do paperwork.” 

Patrolling was what they did in the mornings, and although it was slow and drawn out, there was a routine that made the mornings pass relatively quickly. And then they could return back to their building, and pick up Aziraphale. To his credit, the daycare instructor had assured them that after thirty or forty minutes of crying (though this decreased little by little everyday) Aziraphale had an easy enough time passing the hours coloring, or playing with the other kids, or running around in the yard. He also likes to pick up books, even if he couldn't read yet. It seemed that he liked the feeling of them, and the busy-looking authority they gave. Whenever he wasn't feeling particularly social, he would pick up a book and just sit quietly. By the time they went to pick him up, he was always so ecstatic to see his daddies again. 

Then he would take a nap in Michael's office, because she had the couch, and he would sit quietly in the precinct until they went home. After his first birthday, Gabriel brought in a kid's table and two small chairs, though Aziraphale was the only one who used it. On a rare occasion a parent would bring in a child if they had to make a statement but could not find a sitter, and then the child would get to color and have a place to sit for a bit. It made them mildly popular in the city, and Michael receives a commendation for successful community outreach. She had Dagon give Aziraphale and Gabriel many stickers as thanks. 

They were trying to slowly broach the idea of school over time, because Aziraphale was not going to like the idea of having to go somewhere else for many hours. And he was _v__ery _resistant to change.

\---One Year Later---

“I don’t _need_ to go to preschool,” Aziraphale said petulantly. “You know everything. You can just teach me stuff.” 

Now three years old, Aziraphale was trying to copy his family by using logic, the way he would listen to them try and solve a case. Unfortunately, he was three years old. And no three year old had a concrete grasp of logic. Hastur loved his son, and he loved the fact that Aziraphale had such faith in him and his partner. But he was an adult, and he did understand logic, and he knew that his son needed to go to school. 

“I’m sorry Aziraphale,” He said, “The law says you have to go.” 

Aziraphale paused, mulling over that statement. “I don’t like the law.” He said. 

Beelzebub snorted. “The law does suck,” they agreed. They were in the middle of processing someone, who looked _very_ offended that they would even say that. Noticing the stare, Beelzebub scoffed at them. 

“You stole thousands of dollars from a bakery and framed your ex-girlfriend,” They snapped, “You’re in trouble.”

Hastur and Aziraphale went back to their coloring as the elevator doors dinged. Ligur and Gabriel had been on patrol together, and were returning to the precinct. 

“We’re back!” Gabriel said, flashing a smile. Beelzebub rolled their eyes, but Hastur didn’t miss the reluctant smile they were hiding. Aziraphale got up from his chair, and ran to the gate. 

“Papa!” He cheered, running straight to Ligur, who grinned and picked him up. Other officers cooed, and even the person Beelzebub was processing made an '_aw_' noise. 

"Shut up," They hissed, "You called your ex a whore. You don't get to be part of this." The man slumped, and Beelzebub led him off. 

Ligur pressed a kiss to his son's curls. "Hey there Aziraphale, how are you doing?"

He didn't answer, which sometimes happened when he wasn't in the mood to talk, but rested his head against Ligur's shoulder. Ligur walked over to his desk and sat down. "You know, preschool is going to start soon." 

"_No_," Aziraphale argued. "We can change the law."

Hastur snorted. Ligur made a contemplative noise, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, I don't think we can," He said, and Aziraphale's face fell. The cop felt horrible. He was doing his job, but Aziraphale's sad face was the worst sight in the world. 

Gabriel cleared his throat, loudly, which got Ligur's attention. "Oh, right!" Ligur waved him over, and Gabriel brought over a bag. 

"Aziraphale," Ligur said, "Why don't you want to go to school? You'll get to learn how to read, and write, and get lots of stories. You love learning about things."

Aziraphale pursed his lips, looking pensive. "There's snacktime," Hastur added, and that seemed to entice him more. But then the three year old slumped. 

"I don't want to go," Aziraphale said, looking sad again, "Because I'll be alone there. And you'll be here." 

_Fuck that's adorable_, Hastur thought. Ligur made a humming noise. 

"That's true," Gabriel said, "If only there was a way for Aziraphale to have someone to go with him." 

"Your uncle and I thought of something," Ligur said, taking the bag from Gabriel. "So you don't have to feel alone." He offered the bag to Aziraphale, who suspiciously reached into the bag. His eyes widened as he pulled out a stuffed bunny beanie baby. 

"You love carrots, and you're always hopping from desk to desk. You're our bunny," Ligur said. "When daddy and I are off work, we're going to get more of these, and you're going to pick out what you think your daddy and I are. And they'll stay with you when you go to school, to remind you that the three of us belong together and you won't be alone." 

Aziraphale didn't say anything, but he held the beanie baby close to his chest in a loving grip. "... Daddy is a frog." He said. Ligur grinned, knowing that it worked, and they were going to get him going to school. Sure, it involved bribery, but any parent would back them up that it was okay. They went to pick up others at the end of the day, and, sure enough, Aziraphale picked out a frog for Hastur. Hastur picked out a rainbow chameleon for Ligur, and promised to show Aziraphale some photos of his papa marching in rainbow colors at protests when they were younger. It made him smile to see his partner and baby very seriously discussing the merits of which animal represented his papa. 

And a few weeks later, with three beanie babies bundled in his backpack, Aziraphale had a great first day of preschool. 

\---Two Years Later----

The day marriage equality passed in their state, neither Hastur nor and Ligur had been following the news. It was a Tuesday, and they had more important things to be doing. Ideally, sleeping was one of them. 

Of course, that wasn’t going to happen with their child. ‘Morning person’ didn’t begin to describe Aziraphale. 

The child in question was currently standing at the foot of his parent’s bed. In his perspective, the day had been so many hours already. How were his dads still asleep? It fell on him, as these things usually did, to be the grown-up. 

Aziraphale huffed a breath, and braced his hands on top of the bed. He wiggled and pushed until he was on top of the bed, and crawled until he reached his goal. 

For his part, Ligur had woken up the moment Aziraphale had started trying to climb into bed. He glanced at the digital clock, and smirked. Six fifteen in the morning. That sounded about right. Aziraphale was up with the sun, sometimes even earlier. His child did not enjoy sleep. If anything, Aziraphale was waking them up later than usual. Ligur closed his eyes, hiding his own smile. Instead, he listened as Aziraphale made little huffs of effort as he scooted closer to the two of them. 

Aziraphale reached over to gently pet his head, and Ligur couldn’t hide his smile anymore. 

“Papa,” Aziraphale complained, “It's morning." 

Hastur, who also woke up the moment Aziraphale got on their bed, snorted from where he was laying down. "Yeah papa," he grinned, "It's morning."

"Alright, alright," Ligur pushed himself up on his elbows, looking up at his kid. He missed the days of getting to sleep in. But then Aziraphale gave him such a happy little smile, and he forgot all about those fantasies. Besides, who else was Aziraphale going to tell the days of the week to first?

"Today's Tuesday," Aziraphale told him. Ligur let his eyebrows raise in shock. 

"Tuesday? Really," Ligur breathed, impressed. 

Aziraphale nodded triumphantly, and said, “That’s what today is.” Hastur made a doubtful noise. 

"I don't know," he said, pushing himself up, "That doesn't sound right."

"Is that everything Aziraphale?" Ligur asked, "Or is daddy right? Is there something you're not telling?" 

Aziraphale giggled and shook his head. 

"I knew it!" Hastur declared, "there's something he's not telling us!" 

Ligur let out a mock-gasp, "Aziraphale, you're supposed to tell us things when you wake us up!"

Once again, Aziraphale giggled and shook his head. 

"Alright," Ligur sighed, pretending to sound rather put-upon. "You know, your daddy and I are police officers. That means we know how to interrogate people." 

Hastur grinned, understanding at once what Ligur was getting at. "That's right, do you know how we interrogate little Aziraphale's?" 

Without another word in warning, Ligur grabbed him in a bear hug. Aziraphale let out a shriek of laughter as Hastur began tickling him, kicking out in protest. Ligur held him steady, laughing himself, until Hastur relented. 

"Alright!" Ligur grinned, "Are you ready to talk?" 

Aziraphale nodded, and Ligur adjusted him in his lap. 

"It's my birthday!" Aziraphale explained, and Ligur's jaw dropped. 

"No!" He gasped, and Hastur echoed him. "Your birthday? Really?"

Aziraphale nodded, looking very pleased with himself to be explaining this. 

“And how old are we turning?” Ligur asked. 

“I’m five,” Aziraphale clarified, and giggled at the shocked sounds they made. 

"Well, you know what the birthday boy gets to pick?" Hastur asked. 

"Breakfast!" Aziraphale answered. 

"That's right," Ligur agreed, "And what do you want for breakfast, Aziraphale?"

Aziraphale was quiet for a moment, as if he were debating something very seriously. And he usually took food seriously, especially if his Papa was going to cook it. "Pancakes!" He said. 

Hastur let out a triumphant hiss. "Pancakes! Great choice." He cheered. "Ligur, you heard him. Chop chop. I'm going to get Aziraphale dressed."

"Hold on," Ligur stopped them both. "Aziraphale, did you mean to say pancakes?"

Aziraphale paused for a second, and there it was. Ligur saw him fight back the urge to look back at Hastur before he nodded, with a bit of hesitation. He was a smart kid, but he was only five years old, and not a skilled liar at all. 

"Aziraphale," Ligur said gently, "Did daddy tell you to say pancakes?" 

His son smiled at him, and nodded. "Yes," Aziraphale said, and Hastur groaned. 

Ligur gave his partner an annoyed look. "Alright. Aziraphale, what would you like to eat." 

Hastur did not have what one would call a “refined palette”. He enjoyed simple, easy foods. And if it was junk food, all the better. Heaven forbid anyone, Ligur specifically, try and make him eat a vegetable. Green food was not in his favorites. 

Aziraphale looked up at Hastur, and Ligur glared at his not-husband. “Don’t look at him,” Ligur said, “What do you want to eat for breakfast?"

"Peaches," Aziraphale said, and that sounded like his son. Hastur made a face from behind his head. Aziraphale preferred fruits and vegetables. He liked peaches and bananas because they were smooth, and carrots and any vegetable that crunched. 

"How about peaches with pancakes?" He suggested, and Aziraphale gasped and nodded, excitedly. 

Hastur looked relieved again. 

They enjoyed breakfast, bundled the beanie babies into his backpack, and came into the precinct a little later. Which they had been given permission for. The elevator dinged as they reached their floor, and Aziraphale ran ahead, eagerly pushing open the gate to the bullpen. The rest of the squad was already there, but not on the floor. Only Gabriel was there, and was therefore the first person to see Aziraphale. He gave a giant smile, and Aziraphale ran toward him. He kneeled down, and held out his arms to intercept his godson.

"Hey there sunshine! What's today?" He asked, as Aziraphale all but leapt into his arms. Gabriel picked him up, adjusting Aziraphale on his hip. 

"Tuesday," Aziraphale said, and Gabriel's face twisted in an effort to not laugh. 

"And?" Gabriel pressed, but Aziraphale smiled and buried his face in his shoulder. 

"I think we're a little shy today," Ligur guessed, as Hastur sat down at his desk.

Gabriel, still holding Aziraphale, nodded and sat down at his own desk, adjusting Aziraphale in his lap. "Can you help me get some work done, sunshine?" He asked, and Aziraphale nodded. 

Once Gabriel got over his initial awkwardness with their kid, he got along very well with Aziraphale. He was great at involving his nephew with filling out reports, and asking Aziraphale to staple things, and help walk reports over to Auntie Dagon or Auntie Michael to turn them in. Dagon had taken to keeping a variety of stickers at her desk, and she always gave Aziraphale one whenever he submitted anything. Aziraphale then liked to take the stickers and add them to his dads’ desks, or any of their desks. Ligur was comfortable trusting Gabriel to watch him while he did his work.

"Happy birthday sunshine," Gabriel said, smiling at Aziraphale. Despite only acknowledging that it was a Tuesday, Aziraphale smiled back at him and said thank you. 

"There's going to be some snacks later," Gabriel said, "But I wanted you to have this." 

He reached for a little bag, and Aziraphale wiggled in excitement. Carefully, the five year old removed the tissue paper with all the care possible, and then reached in to pull out another beanie baby. This one was a little snowy owl. 

Hastur and Ligur exchanged a bemused look. Over the past few years, for his birthday and Hanukkah, the rest of the squad had gotten Aziraphale beanie babies so they could be included in the stuffed family. Michael got him a lion that he named 'Ms. Lion', Dagon got him a shark which was named 'Sharp', Beelzebub got him a Twitterbug that he named "Bee', and Gabriel gave him a dog that he named 'Dog'. It seemed like they would have to have a talk about the gifting. 

"I love her," Aziraphale said reverently, giving her and his uncle a hug. Gabriel tried to cough to mask the tears that threatened to fall. Aziraphale thanked him very politely.

Aziraphale looked at her critically, studying her. "Miss Owl," the five year old decided. As they worked, Aziraphale was content to admire Miss Owl, letting her fly this way and that. 

The door to Michael’s office was closed, but Dagon and Beelzebub were absent from the floor of the bullpen.

“Where are the others?” Hastur asked Gabriel.

“There’s an announcement coming from the governor soon,” Gabriel explained, “They’ve been in her office since eight in the morning. Michael heard a rumour that it’s about marriage equality.” 

He looked at Aziraphale, who so far had been content to just sit in his lap and play with the owl. “Do you know what marriage is?” 

Aziraphale shook his head, his curls going everywhere. 

“Marriage is a scheme where people pay a lot of money to throw a big party,” Hastur explained, and Gabriel and Ligur snickered. Aziraphale nodded solemnly, not understanding that his daddy would be upset that he couldn’t get married to his partner, and also not understanding the nuance of sarcasm at five years old. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Gabriel said, kissing his forehead. “Marriage is when you promise to be with someone you love, forever.”

“That’s a long time,” Aziraphale said, and Gabriel nodded. 

“That’s why you have to mean it when you do it,” He said. 

Aziraphale nodded sagely, which was the moment Michael’s office got really loud behind the door. The three men, and Aziraphale, looked on in confusion. The door opened, loudly, and Beelzebub ran into the precinct from her office. 

“It passed!” They cried, and Aziraphale was confused as his Awncle started crying. “It’s legal! Gay marriage passed!” 

Hastur said some words that Aziraphale didn’t know, but they made his papa very upset. His daddy then even started crying. Aziraphale had never seen his daddy cry. Dad stood up, and pulled his papa into a deep kiss that made Aziraphale smile. He liked that his daddies loved each other. It made him happy. But he didn’t understand why his godparents were annoyed. There was no such thing as too many kisses, in his opinion. But Auntie Michael was saying something about ‘disrupting the workspace’ and they stopped kissing. Then, daddy kneeled down, and took his papa’s hands. 

“Hastur?" Ligur said, cautiously. “What are you doing?” 

“Finally - we finally can just get married,” Hastur breathed. “Ligur. Ligur. Marry me.” 

Beelzebub shouted something that made Auntie Michael very mad, but Aziraphale didn’t care because his dads were kissing, and looked so happy. 

\---- 

“This is the first wedding our precinct is celebrating since my captainship,” Michael said. “And I want this ceremony to reflect that.”

“We’re two overworked policemen with a five year old,” Ligur deadpanned, “If this wedding needs planning beyond the next hour I’m taking my family to the courthouse and then pizza.” 

Beelzebub snorted. After the impromptu proposal, Michael wasted no time in trying to get wedding planning underway. It seemed that proposing in the precinct made her an equal participant in the wedding planning. 

“I agree with my fiance,” Hastur called over. He was sitting on the floor, next to Aziraphale who was in a chair at his little table. Several of the beanie babies were also on the table to color with them. They were all sharing crayons. And Ligur had to admit, he wished he could be coloring with them instead of having this conversation. 

“It could be fun!” Gabriel encouraged. “We’d all dress in suits! Aziraphale would be your best man _and_ your ring bearer!” 

Beelzebub, Ligur, and Dagon all glanced over at Aziraphale, who was still coloring. All were imagining him in a little suit. Ligur’s eyes narrowed in concentration. Maybe - maybe - it would be cute. 

“This doesn’t have to be fancy,” Beelzebub cajoled, “We can make it casual, keep the food easy.” 

Michael pulled a face, because that was not what she wanted, but Ligur was intrigued with the idea of keeping it simple. “Bunny,” Ligur called, and pulled Aziraphale attention away from the forest he was coloring. 

Ligur wasn’t sure that Aziraphale really understood that there was going to be a wedding. It occurred to him, in that moment that this was going to be his first one. His heart ached at the thought. He walked over and sat down on the floor, next to where his son was sitting at his little table. 

“Do you know what a wedding is?” He asked. Aziraphale shook his head, and turned back to his coloring. 

Hastur stopped coloring, coming to the same realization. 

“Aziraphale,” Hastur began, “You know how your daddy and I love each other?” 

Aziraphale nodded, switching crayons, “You love each other lots.” 

“Exactly,” Hastur said, “Well, daddy and I aren’t married, because some people didn’t want us to be.”

“Why?” Aziraphale asked, looking up at him. 

“Excellent question," Ligur said, and Aziraphale brightened at the praise. 

“Because people are homophobic dingbats,” Dagon said, and Michael glared at her. “What?” She defended, “I’m right!” 

The captain looked angry, “We are not swearing in this office. I will not have Aziraphale being affected by such influence.” 

“Big talk coming from you,” Beelzebub said, and smirked at the angry look Michael gave them. 

“Didn’t realize you were the parent here,” Ligur said wryly. Michael pursed her lips. 

“I just want to make sure we are being mindful of how we shape and mold his mind. These are crucial developmental years.” 

“Someone’s been reading the parenting books,” Beelzebub sneered. “We don’t need books to know he needs to sleep during the day and just to be nice to him.” 

“Back to the point,” Hastur said, which was saying something if he was the one trying to get people on task. He had Aziraphale focus back on him. “Some people wanted to control who could love who, and who could marry who. So your papa and I couldn’t get married until today, because people decided they shouldn’t tell us what we could or couldn’t do. So now we’re going to promise to stay together and love each other in front of people to make it official.”

"But you already love each other, and you told me," Aziraphale said, confused. "So you're married." 

"Oh, great," Ligur said, grinning at his partner, "You heard the kid. We're already married."

Hastur laughed. "There's a paper we have to sign so it 'counts'," he explained to Aziraphale. "And then afterwards we get to have a party."

Aziraphale frowned. "That sounds really hard." 

Ligur snorted, and leaned over to kiss the top of his head. His kid was hilarious. "That's what we're planning now. Do you want to come to the party?" 

Aziraphale bit his lip and looked down. "Can I bring my crayons? And my buddies?" 

That was his word for the group of beanie babies - they were his buddies. 

Hastur buried his face in his hands to keep from laughing. "Of course," Ligur promised. "And everyone gets to eat cake." 

Aziraphale gave a gasp.

"You should have opened with that," Gabriel teased. "Even I know that." Ligur ignored him. 

“What cake do you want?” Ligur asked Aziraphale, ignoring the exasperated sigh from Michael. 

"Red velvet is a very classic flavor," She began, but he waved her off to focus on Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale gave him a very critical look, tilting his head one way and then another. “Chocolate,” He decided, before going back to coloring. Hastur, from his own seat next to his son, let out a triumphant hiss. 

“You heard the kid,” He goaded, and Michael sighed again. 

“Fine, but this is supposed to be a wedding, and those are supposed to be fancy.”

“Gross,” Hastur answered, and Aziraphale giggled at the ‘bad word’ from his dad. Emboldened by the feedback, Hastur continued, “I don’t want anything fancy. This is about signing a piece of paper for tax benefits, and to make filling out forms for my kid easier. Ligur and I have been married for years. I’ll eat pizza at the reception for all I care.” 

Ligur bit back a smile. “You just want pizza to be the food for the reception,” He said, ignoring the soft emotions Hastur’s words gave him. 

“Of course,” Hastur smirked. 

“Do you want pizza, Aziraphale?” Ligur asked. Aziraphale had gone back to coloring, but gave a nod. Hastur let out another triumphant hiss. 

“French fries?” Aziraphale asked, and Hastur laughed. “I knew you were a smart bunny,” He praised, and Aziraphale smiled. 

Michael looked a little annoyed at how this had run from her, but tried to bring control back in. “So for the food-”

“_Aziraphale decided_,” Hastur said, letting his tone get a little louder to be more ‘official’, “Pizza and french fries and chocolate cake it is.” 

Aziraphale though was now on a role. Excited, he chirped out, “And carrots!” 

Ligur laughed at the way his husband’s face fell, and he wasn’t the only one. Aziraphale was in a zone now and wanted to ask for more vegetables. Michael grinned, took out her notepad, and soon enough they were adding cucumbers, broccoli, bell peppers (which Aziraphale called ‘peps’ but they all knew what he meant), and celery to the list. 

With food and cake decisions out of the way, all that was left was to pick a date. They decided to utilize memorial day weekend, and booked an appointment for City Hall, which was filling up quickly, and had some tables set up in their own breakroom, like how they set up the annual holiday party. The entire squad dressed in their formal uniforms, and they picked out a little suit for Aziraphale to wear. He looked adorable. 

The ceremony was simple, which was perfect. It only took a half an hour for them to head to the third floor, get married, get the certificate filed, and then head back downstairs for their part. New pictures joined their desks, ones of their wedding, looking at each other in front of the clerk’s desk, and one of them holding their son - now officially a family in the eyes of the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are finally gonna get to Crowley in the next chapter, and he and his snakes are VERY excited to meet Aziraphale. 
> 
> I am Shay Moonsilk on tumblr, twitter, Instagram, and discord!


	6. Growing up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale grows up, makes friends, and learns the facts of life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I realized that the last part of the last chapter got cut off, so the first bit below is what the end was supposed to be. I'm sorry about that. I hope you enjoy! Some of the snippets I have here were written in the very beginning when I came up with this idea in the first place.

Hastur buried his face in his hands to keep from laughing. "Of course," Ligur promised. "And everyone gets to eat cake." 

Aziraphale gave a gasp.

"You should have opened with that," Gabriel teased. "Even I know that." Ligur ignored him. 

“What cake do you want?” Ligur asked Aziraphale, ignoring the exasperated sigh from Michael. 

"Red velvet is a very classic flavor," She began, but he waved her off to focus on Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale gave him a very critical look, tilting his head one way and then another. 

“Chocolate,” He decided, before going back to coloring. Hastur, from his own seat next to his son, let out a triumphant hiss. 

“You heard the kid,” He goaded, and Michael sighed again. 

“Fine, but this is supposed to be a wedding, and those are supposed to be fancy.”

“Gross,” Hastur answered, and Aziraphale giggled at the ‘bad word’ from his dad. Emboldened by the feedback, Hastur continued, “I don’t want anything fancy. This is about signing a piece of paper for tax benefits, and to make filling out forms for my kid easier. Ligur and I have been married for years. I’ll eat pizza at the reception for all I care.” 

Ligur bit back a smile. “You just want pizza to be the food for the reception,” He said, ignoring the soft emotions Hastur’s words gave him. 

“Of course,” Hastur smirked. 

“Do you want pizza, Aziraphale?” Ligur asked. Aziraphale had gone back to coloring, but gave a nod. Hastur let out another triumphant hiss. 

“French fries?” Aziraphale asked, and Hastur laughed. “I knew you were a smart bunny,” He praised, and Aziraphale smiled. 

Michael looked a little annoyed at how this had run from her, but tried to bring control back in. “So for the food-”

“ _ Aziraphale decided _ ,” Hastur said, letting his tone get a little louder to be more ‘official’, “Pizza and french fries and chocolate cake it is.” 

Aziraphale though was now on a role. Excited, he chirped out, “And carrots!” 

Ligur laughed at the way his husband’s face fell, and he wasn’t the only one. Aziraphale was in a zone now and wanted to ask for more vegetables. Michael grinned, took out her notepad, and soon enough they were adding cucumbers, broccoli, bell peppers (which Aziraphale called ‘peps’ but they all knew what he meant), and celery to the list. 

With food and cake decisions out of the way, all that was left was to pick a date. They decided to utilize memorial day weekend, and booked an appointment for City Hall and had some tables set up in their own breakroom, like how they set up the annual holiday party. The entire squad dressed in their formal uniforms, and they picked out a little suit for Aziraphale to wear. He looked  _ adorable.  _

The ceremony was simple, which was perfect. It only took a half an hour for them to head to the third floor, get married, get the certificate filed, and then head back downstairs for their part. New pictures joined their desks, ones of their wedding, looking at each other in front of the clerk’s desk, and one of them holding their son - now officially a family in the eyes of the city. 

\-----------

Aziraphale didn’t have many friends growing up. When most kids wanted to run in the yard, he preferred to sit at the lunch table and read. He was the kid to ask the teacher what the homework was. School was a place to learn, study, and do the best on tests and assignments. Aziraphale didn’t come to school to make friends. Hastur and Ligur realized pretty quickly that most of his stories to them were about lessons that they learned, or his progress on reading and writing, and doing well on his lessons over the years. It was a little worrisome for the parents, but they figured they needed to take the good with the bad. Aziraphale was smart, didn’t cause fights, did his homework, and genuinely enjoyed eating vegetables. Ligur didn’t need him to win any popularity contests, and clearly Aziraphale had no interest. 

So it was an interesting change of pace when their six year old started talking about Newt. 

“I met Newt today,” Aziraphale said, climbing into the patrol car. Climbing into the backseat of a patrol car was not usually a place someone wanted to be, but Aziraphale was never phased. Everyday his parents picked him up, and he went into the backseat. 

“Newt?” Ligur asked, “Is that another kid or- _ Aziraphale don’t untie your shoes _ .” 

It was too late. Because he wasn’t distracted by writing or reading in the car, Aziraphale had noticed his shoelaces and, like he did everyday, untied them. Ligur groaned. “You can’t run out of the car when we stop, alright? Not until you tie them again.” 

“We don’t need shoes,” Aziraphale said petulantly. 

“Those are from Auntie Michael,” Hastur reminded him, “Do you want to tell her you don’t need them?” 

Aziraphale shook his head furiously, and he grinned. “Thought so.” 

“So this newt,” Ligur said, “Was it nice?” Most parents were worried if their kids played with reptiles, but Ligur trusted Aziraphale to wash his hands frequently. Or was newt another kid? But what kind of name was that? 

“Yup,” Aziraphale said, “We crawled around at recess.” 

Hastur frowned, looking at his husband, also not sure if this was a child or not. “Well… did newt go back with you to class?” 

"He tried but the teacher didn't let him in," Aziraphale said, distracted by his shoelaces. He was remembering, of course, that Newt was in another class and had to go there, and not with him. But the parents didn't know that. 

Ligur looked back at Hastur. That cleared  _ nothing _ up. 

"Will you see him tomorrow?" He asked.

"Of course Papa," Aziraphale said, as if Ligur had said something very silly, "I always find him in the yard."

“ _ Is this a kid or a newt?”  _ Hastur hissed, and Ligur shrugged. 

Before Ligur could ask, an announcement came in through their speaker from Michael. 

“ _ There’s an incident on Fourth Street and Vermont,”  _ Her voice rang, “ _ A Security guard detained someone at a theater but you need to bring them in.”  _

Hastur hissed a curse under his breath. “Our car’s full,” He said, a bit of a snarl in his voice. That was their code for ‘ _ we have our toddler in the car, do not make him share the back seat.’  _

“ _ There’s no one else near,”  _ She said apologetically, “ _ They’re handcuffed, and you can make sure the seatbelt is restrictive.”  _

Her tone was apologetic, but it was clear that this wasn’t a request. Ligur leaned in to reply, “We’re on it, but you owe your godson.” 

She didn’t reply, but Ligur was sure that another beanie baby would be in Aziraphale’s future. 

They drove toward the intersection Michael told them, where, sure enough, there was a guard standing outside with a young man who was glowering at the sidewalk. They had a ridiculous outfit on - leather jacket, ripped black jeans, dramatically smudged eyeliner, and elongated bunny ears. 

Ligur went out to get him, and pulled him by the elbow to the opposite side of where Aziraphale was sitting. Before he opened the car door, he forced the teen to look him in the eye. “Listen,” He growled, “There’s a six year old in the backseat. You will not be rude to him. You will not curse in front of him. If you make him frown, or cry, or bully him, I swear to whatever higher authority you do or don’t believe in that I’m going to pull out every ridiculous law in this forsaken city and bury you so deep you never see another shitty movie at this shitty movie theater ever again. And you see the other man in the car? The one glaring at you? Good. Cause believe me, you make him cry and you’ll  _ want  _ what I’ll do to you, because it’ll be daisies compared to what  _ he’ll  _ do.  _ Understand _ ?”

The young man looked terrified of him, which was how Ligur preferred it. “Right, in you go,” He said, shoving him into the back seat. 

“We’re giving this man a ride with us,” Hastur explained to Aziraphale, who was watching his new companion in interest. Ligur strapped him in, making sure there was as little give as possible with the seatbelt. They peeled off, heading back to the precinct. 

Aziraphale turned to his new neighbor. "What's your name?" He asked, because Auntie Michael had always stressed politeness. 

Still terrified of the threat, the teen did not want to answer. But then Hastur gave a pointed  _ cough _ , and the terrified punk saw his dark glare in the rearview mirror. 

"E-eric," He answered. Aziraphale smiled at him.

"It's nice to meet you Eric," he said, "I'm Aziraphale. Do you know my daddies?" 

"No," Eric said, still nervously stammering. If his arms weren't cuffed, he would be fidgeting something fierce. Ligur exchanged an amused glance with his husband, they were both trying to keep quiet to make sure they heard every word. 

Aziraphale took his backpack, which was next to him, and pulled out one of his beanie babies. 

"This is my owl, Mr. Owl," he introduced, "Mr. Owl is smart and he goes to school with me. We got a 100 in spelling today. Are you good at spelling?" 

"I'm not," Eric admitted, "That was my worst subject."

"You need to be able to spell," Aziraphale chastised, looking much more 'adult' than any six year old had the right to be. "Because then you won't have to ask your daddies to write all your cards for you. My daddies help me write all my cards to my here-family and the family that’s far away. That’s how I tell people I love them. Who writes your cards for you if you can't spell?" 

There was a moment of silence, where Eric didn't say anything. Ligur looked over his shoulder, to make sure Aziraphale wasn't being intentionally ignored, but to his surprise Eric seemed to be muffling  _ sniffles _ . 

"I don't have daddies," he confessed, and Aziraphale gasped in sympathy. "My parents don't give a  _ shi-they _ don't care." He caught the warning hiss from Hastur just in time. 

"Oh no," Aziraphale fretted. Mr. Owl went back into his backpack, and he pulled out one of his handkerchiefs that Michael had gotten him during Hanukkah, because she had decided Aziraphale, as a kindergartner, was at the age where he needed to make sure that he always had a handkerchief on him. "You can use this." 

The rest of the ride was one of the oddest in Hastur and Ligur's entire career. They never expected their six year old to console a kid that had been caught vandalizing and carving slurs in the bathroom of a movie theater. But for the duration of the time in the car, Eric had confessed that carving rude messages was a way for him to act out aggression he felt at home to take it out on "the man". To his credit, Aziraphale had no sympathy for that. 

"That's sexist," he argued, as Eric wiped his eyes, "What if the higher authority, who I call HaShem by the way, is a woman?" 

Eric sniffled, confessing that that was a good point. 

_ What the fuck? _ Hastur mouthed to Ligur. They arrived at the precinct, where they went to take Eric's statement. He got uncuffed because he had complied with everything they said, promised to comply for better treatment, and because Aziraphale wanted him to hold the bunny beanie baby while he gave his confession. 

"Your ears match his, so you won't be sad," Aziraphale reasoned. But his face turned stern. "You are  _ borrowing _ bunny, you  _ cannot  _ have him. You need to get your own when you go home." 

"You're right," Eric agreed. Ligur, being the more professional of the two, was the one to take the statement while Hastur laughed about the situation with Gabriel. Aziraphale gave them both a rather stern glare, and Hastur was sufficiently cowed and agreed to get Eric a bunny beanie baby. 

The mystery of Aziraphale and the newt continued past that day. Whenever he got picked up, Aziraphale would regale them with another story about Newt. Or newt. They weren't sure if this was a child or not. Everything Aziraphale said could be taken one way or another. Finally, his seventh birthday rolled around, and they were able to find out. 

Aziraphale's party would be a small affair - there was a pizza place near the precinct, and that was all he wanted to do. Just have his precinct family, and have some pizza. 

“Can Newt come?” He asked. Hastur and Ligur exchanged a glance, unsure how to respond. 

“We won’t be able to pick him up, will he be able to come?” Ligur asked. Aziraphale frowned, deep in thought. 

“I don’t know. But we’ll see.” He went back over to where Gabriel was working, because he had promised his uncle he would turn in the paperwork, and then Beelzebub wanted to draw sunflowers on the walls. 

The next day, to their surprise a small child showed up at the precinct for Aziraphale’s party with his mother. 

“Newt!” Aziraphale ran over to give him a hug. 

“Newt’s a child,” Hastur whispered, feeling relieved. From behind his back, Beelzebub handed Dagon a ten dollars. 

Newt’s mom approached Ligur, offering her hand. 

“Newt’s been telling me all about his new friend,” She smiled at him, “I’m Mrs. Pulsifer, Newton’s mother. I’m sorry I didn’t have your son over sooner for a sleepover or playdate. To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of your boy - I’ve never heard of ‘Aziraphale’ as a kids name!” 

For most of Ligur’s life, he had gotten used to keeping a neutral face as ridiculous things were said to him. It was that training that kept him from saying, ‘Because  _ Newt _ makes more sense?’ 

Instead he said, “It’s an old name his mother gave him.”

“Oh!” She smiled, “And which one is his mother?” 

There were several ways this could play out. Ligur looked over, where Aziraphale had pulled Newt to the wall where he had been working on some sunflowers, and gave him a crayon. 

“Is it her?” She asked, nodding in Michael’s direction. To her defense, Ligur could see why she would assume that. Michael was currently telling them to step away from the wall drawing, and she was going to teach them to play poker. 

“This is an important life lesson, you two will thank me one day,” Michael told the now seven year olds. “We’re going to play with Gabriel, so you can learn what a bad poker face looks like, and Beelzebub, so you can learn how to bluff.”

“She seems… lovely,” Mrs. Pulsifer said, face twisting in an awkward smile. 

Ligur smirked. The urge to keep this going was too tempting. “She’s great. I.. I am married to her. I have a wife, and my wife is that woman.” 

She nodded, “How long have you two been married?”

“Married, right,” Ligur said, “Well, I married my wife-”

“Hey!” There was Hastur - on cue. Well, it was fun while it lasted. The other cop came over to them. “Look, when you married me, you agreed to co-parenting duties. Dagon brought cupcakes and Gabriel brought a cake, and I don’t know if this is a weird foreplay thing but I’m leaving it you to deal with.” 

“Sure thing hon,” Ligur said, “Also, this is Newt’s mom. It was nice meeting you,” He addressed that last part to her, and walked off to handle whatever situation Aziraphale’s godparents were trying to pull. 

From over his shoulder, he could overhear Hastur say, “So what kind of name is  _ Newt?”  _ and he smirked. Served her right for giving them a hard time about Aziraphale’s name. He loved his husband very much. 

\------------------ 

They did move past the first conversation with Newt’s mother. And though Newton was an awkward kid, he was nice and a good best friend for Aziraphale to have. The two stayed in touch throughout the rest of elementary school, middle school, and now even high school. There was an awkward year for them, when they were freshmen and had gone through a rough patch, which usually happened between two long time friends. Newt had started dating a young lady named Anathema, and he and Aziraphale started to grow apart. Lonely, Aziraphale had fallen into a friend group with teens that caused trouble - and that had nearly gone very badly for their kid. But Aziraphale and Newt moved past it, and were focusing the rest of their three years on trying to graduate in the top of their class so they could go to Tadfield University. 

It was currently a school night. Hastur was flipping through the channels while Aziraphale studied at the kitchen table. Ligur was looking through the fridge, debating what he could make that his husband would eat. If Hastur had his way, they would eat pizza every night. Maybe Ligur could persuade Aziraphale to help him make chicken fried rice, which was his favorite food. If Aziraphale made it, odds were higher that they could get him to eat it. 

“I’m hungry,” Hastur groaned from the couch. 

Before Ligur could bite back that he was an  _ adult _ and  _ fully capable _ of cooking himself, Aziraphale cut him off. 

“Hi hungry, I’m gay,” He answered. His eyes didn’t leave his copy of  _ Lord of the Flies _ , in an attempt to come off as casual, but Aziraphale couldn’t help the nerves he felt. 

Ligur  _ roared _ with laughter. He had in no way expected that out of his kid, but that was  _ perfect.  _

Hastur  _ gaped _ at Aziraphale. “What- how - did you just  _ out dad joke me?”  _

“He did!” Ligur howled. Fuck - he was  _ crying _ , “Bunny that was great.” 

Aziraphale gave a little snicker, feeling illogically relieved. His dads were gay. They were hardly going to judge him. But still. 

“I can’t believe it.” Hastur said, still sounding shocked. “I’ve been upstaged.” 

“You don’t get to be a dad anymore,” Ligur agreed, “You’ve lost your privileges.” He was still laughing, but finally getting a grip. “That was great,” He repeated, and Aziraphale gave a delighted  _ wiggle.  _

“How did you know?” Hastur asked. Granted, he and Ligur had been pretty sure - Aziraphale dressed himself now and still wore bowties nearly everyday, and they weren’t blind. They  _ saw _ Aziraphale blush when they watched  _ Doctor Who.  _ He still took care of all the handkerchiefs Michael gave him for his birthday or Hanukkah. 

“Anathema and Newt helped me. She told me to kiss Newt, but I didn’t like it,” Aziraphale said, not noticing the  _ panicked  _ look that Hastur and Ligur exchanged, “But then I tried kissing her, and I  _ really _ didn’t like it. I realized that I preferred Newt, but I don’t want to date Newt and he doesn’t want to date me, so there’s that.” With that, Aziraphale got up. “I need to finish this book. I don’t like it, unfortunately, but I need to work on my essays. And I think I need to do that in my room. Love you!” 

“Love you!” Hastur called, and Ligur echoed him. 

They waited for the door to close. 

“Fuck,” Hastur hissed, “He’s  _ kissing people _ ?” 

“That made me mad,” Ligur whispered, “Why did that make me mad?” 

“Because he’s  _ fourteen _ , and he’s our  _ baby _ and -  _ shit _ .” That logic didn’t follow. “He’s  _ fourteen _ . Think about when you were fourteen.” 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Ligur cursed. “I was a nightmare.” 

“We should have  _ talked _ to him about this,” Hastur said, paling at the thought. 

“I  _ can’t _ do that,” Ligur growled, “I  _ can’t _ be the one that says anything.”

“What makes you think _ I _ can?” Hastur cried. “He still has all the beanie babies we gave him. Mr. Owl is  _ in his backpack _ when he goes to school still. I can’t do it.” 

They were at an impasse. 

For a moment, Hastur looked at Ligur. Ligur looked at Hastur. 

It was unclear who spoke first. But like they were in most things, they had the same idea of how to proceed. Make some of the godparents do it. 

“Gabriel.”

“Beelzebub.” 

\------

This was what having godparents was _ for, _ in the end. 

It was the most uncomfortable trip for frozen yogurt in Aziraphale’s life, but his BeeBee and Uncle Gabe had been able to walk him through  _ everything _ he needed to know. They even had several pamphlets to answer details they didn’t have. 

Aziraphale couldn't look them in the eyes for most of the conversation though. It was too  _ embarrassing.  _

"Aziraphale," Gabriel said gently. "Please look at me." 

"I can never look at you again, sorry." Aziraphale replied. 

Beelzebub gave a soft chuckle. Gabriel bit back a laugh. 

"C'mon sunshine, look up at me." Groaning, Aziraphale did.

"It's normal for this to be mortifying. It is for everyone. This is why your parents couldn't do it-"

"And don't let them forget it," Beelzebub added, "They owe us big time. I expect your help at the Halloween Heist to take them down."

" _ Yes _ ," Aziraphale agreed, because they deserved that. He was  _ never _ going to let this go, ever. 

"Alright, alright," Gabriel said, trying to stay on task, "First off, I think I did most of the talking, so I get more help on Halloween-"

Beelzebub muttered, "Absolutely  _ not." _

"But the  _ point _ I want to make," Gabriel pressed on, "Is that the most important thing I want you to know, is that if you can't look the person in the eye and talk about it, you aren't ready to have sex." 

"Oh yeah, that's important," Beelzebub agreed. "You have to be able to talk about it without wanting to die."

"Okay," Aziraphale said. He wasn't as much agreeing as he just wanted the conversation to end  _ yesterday.  _ Already he was determined to never have sex just to avoid a repeat of this conversation. Besides, he was supposed to get into college. That was enough to balance with his books, two best friends, beanie babies, and his family. Dating could wait. 

Gabriel was pretty sure Aziraphale was only half paying attention, but that was realistically the best he was going to be able to hope for. 

  
“So… about Halloween,” He began, and both Beelzebub and Aziraphale laughed - eager to put the previous conversation behind them and  _ never _ think about it again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! I promise Crowley is right at the beginning of the next chapter - them meeting is the first event :) and they're really in love <3


	7. When Aziraphale met Crowley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale's third kiss and first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! We have FINALLY got Crowley in this story! And boy howdy is he excited to be with Aziraphale. A content warning - there is a some daddy kink in this chapter, but I have a ***** before and after so if you need you can avoid it.

Anthony Crowley hadn’t been working at the Tadfield 66 for very long, but he believed he was settling in. Sure, Ligur nearly went after him when he criticized the sunflowers on the wall, but now he knew better. No going after Hastur and Ligur’s kid. Not worth the potential hassle. He would be careful not to. Currently, he was heading to one of the two elevators on their floor, because Beelzebub had taken a bat to the printer for not working. They were going to replace it, but he had to sign a form that vouched for Beelzebub’s character. 

“I owe you - I’ll give you a ten minute start for the Halloween heist!” Beelzebub called over to him in appreciation. He had no idea what they were talking about, but gave a wave as the doors closed. 

As the elevator doors closed for him, the doors to the elevator next to him opened, and Aziraphale stepped out. He waved over to his Awncle, and gave his Auntie Dagon a hug as he made his way to where his parents worked. 

“What happened to the printer?” He asked. 

“BeeBee went at it,” Gabriel said, and dodged the stapler that was projected to him. 

“No nicknames from you!” They called over angrily, “Only one person gets to nickname me and he’s cuter than you are.” 

Aziraphale did a satisfied wiggle, because he knew they meant him, as he gave his parents hugs, having made his way to their work stations. Hastur held him tightly and kissed his curls. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in  _ days _ , do you still live with us?” He asked. Aziraphale giggled. 

“Do you have to replace the printer?” He asked Beelzebub, who nodded. 

“Just drop out of school and work here, so you can keep me from doing this again.” 

Ligur snorted. “I didn’t send my child to college so he could manage your impulse control.” He turned to Aziraphale. “Did you eat lunch yet?” 

Aziraphale was a good student, but he wasn’t always the best at handling stress. And he was nearing the middle of the semester, in the height of midterm season. He was liable to worry himself into a panic where the stress would be the only thing he could focus on. Sleeping and eating took a backseat. Thankfully, he had two loving parents that wanted to look after him. 

Hastur was trying to hand him a PB&J, but Aziraphale was in the middle of ranting about an Emily Dickenson essay that he was hoping to use Ligur’s computer for. 

“Daddy I don’t have time to eat, if I don’t submit this by tomorrow night I don’t pass my class,” He fretted. “I’ll eat tomorrow night.” 

“That doesn’t sound like the kid that used to cry if I didn’t eat vegetables,” Hastur frowned. 

“I didn’t  _ cry,”  _ Aziraphale protested. Ligur snorted. 

“You cried louder about your dad not eating broccoli then people did for  _ Bambi _ .” Ligur reminded him. “Now eat your sandwich or you won’t get to go out with Anathema and Newt tomorrow night.” 

Aziraphale scoffed, but glanced at his dad out of the corner of his eyes. Ligur raised his eyebrows, indicating that he wasn’t kidding. With a sigh, Aziraphale took the sandwich, and slowly took some bites. 

“And besides,” Ligur grinned, “What rewrite is this again? The third? Fourth?” 

Aziraphale made a noncommittal noise, trying to casually shrug. “I don’t know.” 

“C’mon bunny,” Hastur said, “That doesn’t sound like you at all. Your planner is detailed to the minute.” 

He swallowed, and sighed. “It’s the seventh. Look, it’s not my fault!” He protested when they both smirked. “This essay is a comprehensive research paper. It’s like… well over forty pages now! I had to read so many of her books. And so many papers on her. I thought everything had been written on her. I don’t know where I end and she begins. I don’t have a life anymore. It’s all about her now.”

“But you’re almost at the end,” Hastur cajoled, “You’re doing so well! And this is your last semester.”

Aziraphale hissed at him, and furiously knocked the table. “Daddy! Don’t jinx me like that,” He whined. 

“Look, you’ll be fine,” Ligur said, before Hastur could get heated. No one believed in Aziraphale like Hastur, and he fought people for not agreeing with him. This included Aziraphale himself. “But how are you doing, outside of class?”

“What, like work?” Aziraphale asked, “Because I’m working on that. Don’t worry, I have stuff ready if I graduate.” 

“I’m not worried about that,” Ligur shook his head, “I meant… socially.” 

“I have two friends,” Aziraphale said, sounding confused. “What else do you mean?” 

“Have you… met anyone?” Hastur asked, exchanging a glance with his husband. “We realize that this is a time to go to parties, date, do crazy things. And we wanted to make sure that you.. You know. Are staying safe.”

Rather than reply, Aziraphale took a large bite of the sandwich. 

“I know you don’t want to talk about this with your parents,” Ligur said, and Aziraphale kept taking bites so he didn’t have to reply, “But, bunny, we want to make sure that you’re safe, and using protection. The first floor health offices have condoms if you need them.” 

Aziraphale made a muffled sound, and whimpered. “I don’t want to talk about this,” He begged. He then said something else, but it was too muffled for either of them to hear. 

“What was that bunny?” Hastur asked, and Aziraphale made another muted sound. 

“You know we can’t hear you,” Ligur frowned. Aziraphale shook his head. 

“C’mon Aziraphale, or else you can’t go out-”

“ _ I’m still a virgin _ ! Okay!” Aziraphale shouted, looking distressed. “I haven’t done anything to need protection  _ for _ .” Far from looking relieved, he seemed to get even more upset, and tears were starting to come down his face. “I just studied, and volunteered, and interned, and worked, and did boring things and never met anyone new because I didn’t want to get in trouble again and I have a boring life. So I don’t need any condoms and I’m just so tired-” 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Hastur said, looking alarmed. He pulled Aziraphale into a hug, and he buried his head in Hastur’s chest. “Look, it’s alright. You work hard, and that’s not a bad thing. You’re  _ not  _ boring,” though maybe his parents shouldn’t be the ones to tell him that, “And it’s going to be okay.”

“Do you want to take a nap in Michael’s office?” Ligur asked, and from where his head was buried, Aziraphale nodded. 

They quickly moved Aziraphale into Michael’s office. She was working on forms, and didn’t mind for her couch to be reprised for a nap. 

“Take as long as you need,” Michael said, and smiled at him. Aziraphale nodded absentmindedly. He stretched out, and it was a testament to how tired he was that he fell asleep in a matter of minutes. Ligur draped a blanket over him, and he and Hastur left her office. 

“I feel like maybe we did too good a job with him.” Hastur worried, “Is it our fault he hasn’t done anything bold in college?”

Ligur stared at him. “Did you hear yourself say that?” He asked, “We have the perfect child.”

The elevators dinged open again, and Crowley, the flash bastard that was new to their precinct, walked back in. Not paying him any mind, Hastur turned back to his husband. “He panicked when I talked about condoms on the first floor, I think he’s in his head about being a virgin.”

“Virginity is a social construct meant to commoditize women,” Beelzebub called, and they both nodded them off because this phrase usually came up. 

“Who’s the virgin?” Crowley asked, sauntering to his desk. “‘Cause, if they don’t want to be a virgin, they can always let me at them. Great with virgins, me,” He smirked, and missed the way Hastur had to be restrained by his husband so he wouldn’t try and attack Crowley. Gabriel, who did notice, opted to take the afternoon patrol and volunteered himself and Crowley to go. The two left soon after, and they overheard Crowley talking about how he was looking forward to going out tomorrow night. 

“Never,” Hastur hissed to his husband, “Do I want them to meet.” 

Ligur nodded, glad that Aziraphale was asleep for that whole exchange. 

Thanksgiving was right around the corner, which for most college students marked a stressful few weeks of exams and finals preparation. But for Aziraphale, Newton, and Anathema, they were not worried. Anathema, for one, had graduated last spring, and had been studying for the LSAT’s for the last few months, and was going to sit for it soon. The three were taking a rare break that Friday night, and were getting some drinks at their nearby pub to the campus. Newton had had his midterms the week before, and was relaxing before his body decided to  _ stop  _ and sleep for a few days. Aziraphale was moping, but not for the reasons they thought. 

"I'm graduating at the end of this semester," Aziraphale moaned, "And I never did  _ anything  _ wild or crazy! I never went to a party, or got too drunk, or stayed up late wondering what the world meant." 

"I thought we did that?" Newt asked, looking hurt. 

Aziraphale gave him a pitying look. "No sweetie, we debated. And I won." 

Anathema laughed, her whole body shaking. 

"I've never even had a one-night stand," Aziraphale pouted. "I'm still a," and his voice lowered, "a virgin." 

"There's nothing wrong with that," Anathema reassured him. 

"I  _ know _ ," though his tone certainly didn't sound convincing, "I know that it's a social construct that means nothing in the long term and meant to commoditize women, my godparents have had  _ the talk _ with me.  _ But _ ! But. It's built up in my head now and I’m sick of  _ being  _ a virgin." 

"It doesn't have to be. All built up, I mean," Newt said, drinking the rest of his beer. He had slept a total of twenty four hours in the last week, his decision making and reasoning was poor. "Why don't you try and lose it tonight?"

Because Aziraphale had also been drinking that night, it had to be noted that his judgement was not where it needed to be. As Newt said that, Aziraphale's eyes  _ lit up _ .

"That is a great idea!" He said. 

Anathema, too, had had a lot to drink, because this was also the best idea she had heard. "Alright," she slammed her drink down. "It's time for you to become a man." 

"L'chaim," Aziraphale cheered, taking another drink. He paused. “But I became a man? I had a bar mitzvah. You were both there.”

“That was different,” Anathema waved him off, “My great-great-great nana always said you become an adult  _ once _ through a ceremony, and again when you  _ know  _ someone.”

Newt nodded, “Agnes knew everything!” He said, repeating an old superstition from Anathema’s mom. But Anathema was already moving on from this. She looked around, scoping potential picks. 

"You should just take charge here. Look for the hottest guy here. And walk up. And ask them."

"You're a genius," Newt said adoringly, and she gave him a  _ kiss _ of thanks. Aziraphale made a face and turned, using it as a chance to scope out the room. 

His eyes panned over a few different people, noticing that a few were actually eyeing  _ him  _ with interest. It bolstered his self-confidence. There was one man that actually cocked his head and seemed to beckon him over, but he seemed to be sitting with a girlfriend and Aziraphale decided to pass. But that was when his eyes caught someone  _ else. _

The mysterious man was on a bar stool, leaning casually against it. He had bright,  _ impossibly bright, _ red hair. A black leather jacket covered a very  _ nice _ set of shoulders and his black pants were impossibly tight, leaving a bulge that left  _ much _ to the imagination, all good. He was wearing a pair of sunglasses that obscured his eyes. Normally that sort of thing would make Aziraphale scoff, but he just pulled it off. Seeing him made Aziraphale's heart nearly burst, and something under his waist also take interest. 

Newt snickered. "He found someone."

"Shut up," Aziraphale hissed, but he was blushing. "Besides, he's definitely out of my league."

"That's not true," Anathema frowned, looking upset. "You’re a catch."

Before Aziraphale could retort, Newt spoke up. "He's looking at you. And I think he likes you." 

The three looked back at the man. His sunglasses were lowered down the bridge of his nose, and he was staring at them with  _ golden  _ eyes. But that wasn't true. He was staring intently at  _ Aziraphale.  _

The blond gulped at the intensity of his gaze - how, from across the bar, was he able to pierce into Aziraphale's very core? 

"Aziraphale," Anathema said slowly, "If you don't go over to him right now, I will."

"Anathema!" Aziraphale hissed, but even Newt was nodding. 

"Yeah, and if you two don't, I will," Newt said. 

"Both of you!" Aziraphale huffed, but stood anyway. He walked across the bar, but felt a panic set in. Should he approach this person? He had never done such a thing before. But he pushed ahead because if he chickened out now he would  _ never _ be able to. As he walked, he channeled his Uncle Gabriel's words in his mind. 

_ If you can’t look him in the eye, you aren’t ready _ .

He wanted to be ready. Maybe it was about faking it until you made it. So he pushed forward to the most attractive man in that bar, and the man gave a smirk that made his heart flutter. 

“Hello,” He said, pushing forward with a confidence he did not feel. “My name is Aziraphale.” 

And he pulled the handsome stranger close, and just like that, Aziraphale had his third kiss. 

\-----

Most mornings, waking up came very easily for Aziraphale. He would spring up, shower, start breakfast, tell someone what day it was, and eagerly plan out what he would read and do. Today was not that day. Aziraphale felt sore and aches in places that he hadn’t realized could be sore. 

Thankfully, he could remember everything from the night before, so he wasn't startled to feel sore. Instead, he had memories of pulling that handsome man into a kiss, and being  _ pressed _ against the bar. 

Arms had wrapped around him after they had broken apart.

"Well,  _ hello _ Aziraphale," He had said. No, not said. It was more like a seductive  _ drawl _ , "My name is Anthony James Crowley."

"Hello Anthony," Aziraphale had whispered, pulling Anthony into his fourth ever kiss, "Am I correct in thinking that you would be amenable to relations?" 

Anthony pulled back and gave him a startled  _ look _ . "Amenable to-  _ what the fuck did you say _ ?"

Aziraphale's face had fallen. Oh. He ruined it and said the wrong thing. Pulling away in shame, he made to retreat and move to a covenant and become the Jewish equivalent of a monk "Terribly sorry my dear," He said, giving a nervous laugh. "I didn't mean- _ mph _ "

He was then pulled into another kiss, and Anthony's hands lowered to grope at his arse. "Sorry, just couldn't believe you could pull those words together after drinking." 

"I am not at all drunk," Aziraphale protested, though there was a chance he was lying a  _ little _ bit. "I saw someone very attractive and wanted to ask them to have their way with me."

Anthony pulled away, giving him a critical look. “How do I know you’re sober?” He asked, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“I am feeling perfectly fine my dear!” Aziraphale protested, “I’m tickety-boo!” 

Crowley stared at him blankly. “That clears up  _ nothing  _ sweetheart.”

Aziraphale ignored the fluttering sensation at the nickname, and gave a determined look. “Alright, then I’ll prove it to you. My senior dissertation is on Emily Dickenson so I will recite her poems by memory until you are convinced.”

“Wait,” Crowely said, looking rather alarmed, “I don’t think that-”

“‘Hope’,” Aziraphale began, cutting him off, “Is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -”

“Alright! Alright!” Crowley said, pulling him in for another kiss. “I believe you. Very sober, you.” He gave an affectionate tap to the nose, and Aziraphale beamed. 

“I think you’re very attractive, and very sweet. I would like you to have your way with me now please.” 

"Lucky me," was the reply, and those were the last words either spoke for the rest of the night. 

Well. That wasn't true. There was  _ 'more' _ and  _ 'faster' _ and  _ 'yes' _ . It had been a rather  _ lovely  _ night. 

Which brought Aziraphale to an unfamiliar room the next day. He looked around, taking in the dark colors, modern looking furniture, and black sheets. This was very different from his room, which still had his posters, tartan blankets, beanie babies, and pale blue walls that had been done when he was a baby. 

He made to sit up, but realized that there was an arm wrapped rather  _ tightly _ around him. Someone was laying behind him. Anthony. That’s who it was. Anthony James Crowley, as he had introduced himself at the bar. Anthony James Crowley was  _ spooning  _ him. 

Flashes of the night before ran through his mind. He could remember the feeling of Anthony’s mouth against his, against his chest, going lower and lower until all he could feel was the pleasure of Anthony’s mouth, his hands, his cock, his  _ everything.  _ Which brought him to the moment that he was in - laying in bed, with Anthony wrapped around him in a vice grip. Aziraphale squirmed a little, suddenly aware of sore spots he didn’t even know could  _ feel  _ sore. But as he moved, the arm around him tightened all the more. 

“ _ Mm _ , don’t go,” And it hadn’t just been the bar, Anthony’s voice really was  _ sultry,  _ even when sleep-deprived. Aziraphale felt himself blush a little. 

“Good morning my dear,” He said, letting himself smile. “Sleep well?”

The hand around his stomach gave a  _ squeeze _ , and he let out a laugh. Anthony answered, “Had a lovely night. Got to wake up to a lovely view as well.” 

Aziraphale, feeling rather pleased with himself, did a delighted little  _ wiggle.  _ He heard a chuckle behind him. 

“That’s adorable. Do that again,” Anthony ordered, and Aziraphale made a little  _ scoff.  _

“Today is Saturday,” He said, because it was nearly instinctive for him to say the day outloud after waking up. “I need to… take a shower, or  _ something.”  _

Reluctantly, the arms withdrew from around him, and Aziraphale sat up, wincing as he did so. 

“I’ll go make sure nothing’s in it,” He said, and Aziraphale blinked at him. 

“Nothing’s in it?” He asked, “What does that mean? Don’t you live alone?” 

“I sort of do,” Anthony said, looking almost regretful. “Look, before we get any further, I want you to know I had a lovely time with you, alright?” 

Aziraphale was confused. Was this normal behavior after sex? He didn’t really know. Was Anthony trying to let him down? Was this just a one-time affair? Aziraphale hoped that it wouldn’t be, from what he could remember Anthony had been very sweet, gentle, passionate, and dedicated lover. 

“Usually,” Anthony said, “This is the time where people I’ve slept with get freaked out and leave.”

“Why would I be freaked out?” Aziraphale asked. 

Crowley took a breath. “I own snakes.” He looked at Aziraphale, expectantly, who stared blankly at him. 

“Alright?” Azirapale said, confused as to what he was getting at. 

“One of them is over six feet long,” Crowley clarified, and Aziraphale made an “ _ Ah _ ” noise. 

“So I’m guessing,” Aziraphale said, “that people got scared of the snakes? Do they roam the apartment?” He looked down at the hardwood floor. “They seem like they would get cold.”

Then he saw Crowley flush, and it looked  _ adorable.  _ “So okay, maybe,” Crowley said, “I made sure that the floors are always heated. They tend to get out of their cases, and they get bored, so they like to travel around the apartment. William likes to take over the bathtub, so now I need to make sure he isn’t in there, or that he’s not hiding in the bathroom somewhere and then tries to join you in the shower because he wants to be warm, and he’s a little brat that acts like a toddler. And I mean this in the sweetest way possible, but you’re very warm and he’s going to want to cling to you.”

There was… a lot to take in with a statement like that. Aziraphale couldn’t believe that he would have the money to have heated flooring. Or have more than one snake. Or that the snakes would get out. Or enjoy bathtubs? But he settled on asking, “William?”

“My oldest,” Crowley said, beckoning him into the bathroom, “William Snakespeare.” 

“William Snakespeare?” Aziraphale repeated, his voice rising in pitch. “Anthony that is the  _ best name _ !” 

Anthony grinned at him. “Would you like to hold him? You’re pretty warm, he’ll like that.”

“Oh, so he’ll only like me for my body?” Aziraphale asked, and Anthony made a stammering sound that didn’t sound like english. Aziraphale snickered and grinned, conveying that he was only kidding. 

Anthony glared at him, but the effect was ruined by a relieved grin. So he hadn’t made Aziraphale uncomfortable. “Oh, so you’re a brat.” 

“I am  _ not _ !” Aziraphale said, but it was accompanied by a slight stomp of his foot that made his - partner? Could he say that? - laugh. 

“You  _ are _ a brat,” Crowley laughed, but his tone was light, and it seemed fond, so Aziraphale followed him to the bathroom, where, sure enough, there was a large snake in the bathtub. 

“I’m glad he didn’t wake us up, or try to join us in bed,” Crowley said, scooping him up. “He gets needy when no one is giving him attention.”

“That’s happened before?” 

“Scared my last date,” Crowley admitted, “Ran right out. Here, hold your arms out, I’ll wrap him around you.”

Aziraphale did, and made a pleasant shudder as Crowley started to wrap the snake around his arms. The sensation was a little cold, and the scales felt smooth. “Oh, hello dear,” He said to the snake, as Crowley gently positioned William around him, “You feel  _ divine.”  _

“Maybe I should be jealous,” Crowley grinned, “I have two others; Reese Slitherspoon, she’s tiny, but “aggressive.” And Monty Python. He’s only two and a half feet, but he’s fine to sit in his cage. Bit lazy compared to this one, but he’s the easiest to feed.” 

“How long have you had them?”

“ _ This _ one I’ve had for fifteen years, I got him when I was ten,” Anthony said, and the fondness in his voice, the tenderness, was adorable to Aziraphale. “Monty I’ve had for about four years, and Reese I got last year. She’s about a foot long, basically full grown, but thinks she’s some sort of viper. If I don’t give her attention she likes to bite. Completely harmless, I promise. Her bites are about as harsh as… if you’ve ever been pinched by a stapler.” 

“They all sound wonderful,” Aziraphale replied, admiring the passion in Anthony’s voice as he described them. It was as if these snakes were like his children. He got such a relieved smile in return. 

“I’m glad you aren’t worried, I’ve never had someone excited to meet them. Mostly they find William somewhere in this apartment and panic, and I’ll be ghosted after that.” 

“Their loss, my gain,” Aziraphale said loftily. Crowley leaned in for a kiss. William made a hissing noise, and soothed when Crowley began stroking him. Aziraphale laughed. He hadn’t been kidding about the snake needing attention. 

“Well, I imagine taking care of three children is a lot of work. And you can’t play favorites, I expect,” Aziraphale said, grinning at William. The snake seemed content to coil around Aziraphale, who seemed perfectly relaxed.

“Nah, I can’t. But they’re fun kids. I complain about them, but I love them.” It struck Crowley, in that moment, that they were both still naked. And Aziraphale, wrapped in his snake, looked  _ very good _ . 

“What say you,” He said, lust filling his gaze, “If I put my boy back in his tank, and we shower together? Helps me save on water, after all.”

“Oh, sure,” Aziraphale said, noticing other  _ parts  _ of Anthony taking interest, and feeling very interested himself, “I’m  _ sure _ you need to save on water so you can heat your floors.”

Crowley’s grin was predatory. “ _ Exactly _ ,” he said, and Aziraphale grinned at him. Aziraphale spent the entire weekend with him, and got a thorough  _ tour _ of his apartment. The living room, bedroom, shower, bathtub, and the dining room table all received very  _ detailed  _ tours. 

\----

Aziraphale kept the relationship on the down-low. It was new and exciting, but his family could be a little intense. He didn’t want Crowley to meet everyone yet. The first time he had ever kissed someone, his dads made him get “the talk.” If they knew he had …  _ sex _ … with someone? Well. There was no telling what would happen. 

They didn’t go out very much, which was just fine for them both. They took turns bringing take out back to Anthony’s apartment, and Aziraphale enjoyed relaxing with him and the snakes. 

“How are you so relaxed with the snakes?” Crowley asked, grinning at him. 

“My uncle used to take me to the zoo a lot,” Aziraphale said. Reese Slitherspoon was a little pancake in his palm, and he gently stroked her with his other hand. “He liked exercising. Anything we could do where we could both get a lot of movement, he liked. He even got one of those strollers you could use to run with an infant so I could ‘run’ with him.” 

“That’s adorable, did your parents use it too?” He asked. 

Aziraphale laughed loudly, shaking his head. “They are  _ not  _ runners. I think they mostly do patrols and paperwork.” 

“Patrols?” Crowley tilted his head. “What do they do?”

“Oh! I didn’t say?” Aziraphale asked. When his boyfriend shook his head, Aziraphale continued, “They’re officers too.”

Looking back, Crowley knew that he should have pressed this. He could have asked  _ ‘What are their names?’ ‘Where do they work?’ ‘How likely will they be to taze me after I brag about how loud I get you to scream?’ ‘Did they used to threaten hoodlums in the precinct about being too loud when you were doing your homework at your “desk” or taking a nap in my captain's office?’  _

But that didn’t happen, because when Crowley had meant to ask more about them, Reese had gotten angry at the lack of attention and bit Aziraphale’s hand. 

“Ow!” Aziraphale yelped, and gave her a pout. “Young lady, that is not okay- _ ow! _ Again?  _ Really _ ?”

He glowered at her, and Crowley intervened. “Alright, bad girl, c’mon now, come to daddy,” He scooped her out of Aziraphale’s hands, and walked her to her cage and placed her in. She wasn’t strong enough to get out on her own. Crowley turned around to apologize again, and stopped. 

Aziraphale was looking at the ground, face pink. 

“Everything alright?” Crowley asked, his tone bemused. 

“Mhm, just-just fine. Tickety-boo,” Aziraphale stammered. 

“Are you sure? You’re acting odd.” 

Aziraphale nodded, but it was pretty obvious he was lying. 

“What’s wrong?” Crowley sat next to him, their legs touching. He placed a hand on his thigh, his hand gently going to cup the back of Aziraphale's neck. His fingertips lightly stroked the skin below. “Did I say something wrong, or-” He paused, feeling a bit of a heat. Crowley grinned. “Did I say something…  _ right _ ?” 

*****

That earned him a  _ squeak,  _ and Crowley chuckled. “It  _ was _ , I said something you  _ liked _ . Now, what just happened, that’s making you blush so prettily for me? My girl bit you, but I already know that you like when I bite you, so it’s not that. I took her out, told her to-” His voice broke off, and his grin went  _ sinister.  _ “Oh angel, do you want to come to  _ daddy _ ?” 

There it was. Aziraphale went pink again, and Crowley smirked. “It’s alright,” He cooed, placing kisses to his shoulder and trailing to his neck. Aziraphale shuddered when he nipped at a sensitive spot. 

“ _ C-Crowley _ ,” Aziraphale half-giggled, half-gasped, and his boyfriend made a  _ tsk  _ noise. 

“Now now angel, that’s not what you should call me,” Crowley purred, letting his hand trail higher up his thigh until Aziraphale  _ gasped.  _

“Oh! Oh!” He was still pink, his whole neck flushing that color. 

Crowley began unbuttoning his shirt, and gave a sharper bite. “Come on, say it.” 

Aziraphale trembled in his arms, and shrugged off his shirt. “Please - please - oh -  _ daddy _ -” He gasped, and Crowley grinned. 

“Well, why didn’t you say so baby?” 

Aziraphale whimpered as Crowley’s mouth trailed down to kiss at his chest, and gasped as he teased at a nipple. 

“Please, please Anthony,’ He begged, and Crowley made a soothing noise, gently shushing him. 

“It’s alright,” Crowley said, lifting his head up for a brief moment, while his hands undid Aziraphale’s pants to pull them down. 

He pushed him down to the couch, instructing him to get on his hands and knees while Crowley teased him open. “It’s alright,” He said, stretching him out while Aziraphale moaned for him, “Daddy has you.” 

*****

Hours later, sated, exhausted, but altogether satisfied, Aziraphale rested with his head on Crowley’s chest, his arms wrapped around him. 

“I don’t… I don’t know why that affected me so much,” Aziraphale admitted sheepishly. “I just, I heard you say it and something came over me.”

“Pretty sure that was me,” Crowley quipped, and Aziraphale snorted, lightly hitting his arm. Anthony leaned down to kiss his forehead. “It’s alright, you don’t have to explain yourself. Everyone had preferences. There’s stuff that I like we haven’t done yet, and there’s stuff you like I don’t know yet. We’ll figure it out as we go.” 

Aziraphale made a happy humming noise. “I’m excited to figure it out with you. I hope you’ll be patient with me though.” 

“Whad’you mean?” Crowley asked, stifling a yawn. Why was Aziraphale never tired? 

“I’ve never had sex before you,” Aziraphale explained, shifting ever so slightly to get more comfortable. He missed the frozen, terrified look that came over Anthony’s face. 

“Wait  _ -ngk-fng _ ,” Several syllables emerged from Crowley, who rose up to his elbows. Aziraphale made a complaining noise as he was jostled, “What do you mean, ‘ _ you’ve never had sex before me _ ’?”

“Well, I mean that I’ve never had sex before you,” Aziraphale repeated, raising an eyebrow dubiously. “Anthony, I know for a  _ fact  _ that policemen are supposed to be able to retain information without too much repetition.” 

His Auntie Michael and Uncle Gabriel were always such  _ sticklers  _ for the details. 

“So, that first night we were together,” Anthony was still trying to wrap his head around it, “Aziraphale, that was your  _ first _ time?”

“I’m worried about what cops are learning these days,” Aziraphale replied, smirking as Anthony glared at him. 

“Stop being a brat,” Crowley growled. But hearing Anthony growl like that made Aziraphale  _ definitely  _ want to keep being a brat. 

Aziraphale cocked his head to the side in confusion. “My dear, what’s the matter?”

“My dear,” Crowley mimicked, and Azirpahale was shocked to see him look annoyed. “As if we aren’t the same age.”

“Anthony,” Aziraphale said, deciding not to point out that his boyfriend was two years older then him, “What ever is the matter?”

“What’s the matter,” Crowley stressed, now furiously pushing himself up, and Aziraphale sat up to, limbs groaning in protest, “Is that night was no way someone like you should have lost their virginity!”

Aziraphale blinked at him. “How was I supposed to lose it? And, it was fine! Anyway, virginity is a social construct designed to demean the value of women in society anyway!” 

“You sound just like my coworker,” Crowley groaned. That was something he had heard Beelzebub shout quite literally the other day, when they had arrested an incel who had been mad his crush had apparently “slept around” and became an aggressive stalker. 

“Well, they sound like a wise person,” Aziraphale replied. Awncle Beelzebub had told him such a statement when they and Uncle Gabriel gave him the talk, and it was one of those phrases he couldn’t help but think about every day since then. 

“Look, it just doesn’t seem right,” Crowley pushed. He scooted closer over to Aziraphale and wrapped an arm around him, “You deserve romance, and candlelight, and music.” 

Aziraphale could feel himself blush, and leaned on him. “That’s very kind of you,” He said, “But we can still have that.” 

“Yeah, of course we’re still having that,” Crowley declared, with no room for doubt in his voice, “I have a seduction to make up for.” 

That caused a startled laugh to escape Aziraphale. “You don’t. You don’t have to do that.” 

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Crowley said, leveling an intense stare that Aziraphale couldn’t bring himself to look away from. “You should be seduced. You should be romanced. And forget the people that didn’t give you that before, because as long as I’m around I’ll make sure you get that affection from me.” 

The blush Aziraphale rewarded him with certainly made him feel a bit better, and he pulled Aziraphale close as they dozed off for a nap. 

\--------

The next day at work, Michael was going on about updates for the day, and doling out assignments, but Crowley was hardly paying attention. He was preoccupied with something far more important. Namely, how he was going to properly romance the man he had been casually seeing for a few weeks. Aziraphale deserved something incredible - something romantic. Home cooked food, for certain. Candles? Wine? What was the best combination? Clearly, he was going to need to call his mother later and- 

“Crowley!” 

He jolted, noticing that Michael was glaring at him. “Do you plan on paying attention?” She asked, and Beelzebub snorted. 

“Obviously he was kept up all night. Again.” There were pointed laughs and coughs, and Crowley chuckled. 

“Well, you know what they say,” He grinned, “The quiet, shy ones turn out to be surprisingly flexible. And my little angel is  _ very  _ flexible and not at all quiet anymore.” 

The words were met with a combination of groans and half-hearted chuckles. He grinned as even Hastur gave an amused snort. It was a challenge getting any kind of laugh out of him. 

“Since when did the morning briefings become a chance to hear about foolish bimbos getting seduced by Crowley?” Ligur asked, only sounding half-annoyed.

“For your information,” Crowley said, “My angel is pretty smart. He’s even graduating college early.” 

“Can’t be that smart if he’s still with you,” Hastur teased. Crowley sneered. 

“Jealous that I can get it?” He took out his phone, wanting to solidify his plans with Aziraphale before he got caught up elsewhere. 

_ Have dinner with me tonight.  _ Crowley texted. He got a confirmation fairly quickly, Aziraphale seemed excited. Crowley grinned, pocketing his phone. 

“Alright, Crowley, you’ll be on desk duty today,” Michael said, and he only gave a small grumble of complaint. Desk duty, while far from his favorite job at the precinct, would at least give him time to plan out how he would make dinner for Aziraphale that night. It would be a night to  _ remember _ , for certain. 

Ligur glared as Crowley sauntered out of the room. “Flash bastard,” he growed, and Hastur snorted. 

“He’s just twenty-four and dumb. They’re all dumb at twenty-four.” 

“Not ours, he won’t be” He argued, and Hastur scoffed. “Of course not our’s!” 

Almost as if Aziraphale knew they were talking about him, their phones lit up with a text. 

_ I’m sorry dads,  _ Aziraphale typed out,  _ I have dinner plans again tonight. I won’t be home.  _

“Think it’s Newt?” Ligur asked, reading the message over his husband’s shoulder. Hastur shook his head. 

“He would have said if it were. This must be that new one he hasn’t officially told us about yet.” 

Ligur made a humming noise. “Why hasn’t he told us anything about him yet? We would be supportive.” Hastur made an agreeing noise, but Dagon, who was still sitting near them, snorted. 

“What?” Hastur snapped. She looked unamused. 

“He kissed someone and you made Gabriel and Beelzebub have  _ the talk  _ with him. And then a month ago you asked if he wanted condoms  _ here.  _ You’re not exactly supporting his free will here.” 

Hastur looked heated. “How  _ dare you-”  _ But Ligur seemed to consider her. 

“That’s fair,” He agreed, ignoring the betrayed look his husband gave him, “We'll work on it, definitely. I guess that Aziraphale will tell us more about AJ when there's news to tell."

"AJ?" Dagon asked.

"He was on the phone, the other day," Hastur said, "after dinner and he said  _ 'I'll see you later AJ' _ ,' which was how we knew something was going on at all." 

"I don't know anyone who goes by AJ," Dagon mused, "I'm sorry I can't help you there." 

Ligur waved her off. "It's alright. Hastur and I better go patrol, before Michael makes us work late." 

\---------------

"You're the only one who’s tried to make AJ work as a nickname for me,” Crowley said teasingly, as he and Aziraphale took the elevator up to his floor. It still floored Aziraphale that he had his  _ own floor.  _ Owning a building seemed incredible, but involved a ton of work. Though Crowley seemed rather chaotic. One day he pranked a floor by switching all the mail on a floor, so everyone had to give it back to the rightful owner, and the next he would waive a late fee for a family getting their rent in a little late.  _ I like to keep things interesting  _ was the excuse he gave, but Aziraphale knew his boyfriend was a good person at heart. But he didn’t  _ say _ it, because he knew that Crowley liked to have a reputation as a  _ bad boy.  _

Aziraphale smiled back at him. "I don't really buy into referring to you by your last name. It seems so odd." 

Crowley shrugged. "It's alright, most do." He paused a moment, and then flashed a smirk to Aziraphale. "Though, I have to admit, I do really enjoy 'Anthony' when you say it. And there was that time you called me daddy-"

" _ I'm glad you had me over tonight _ ," Aziraphale hurried to interrupt, and Anthony cackled. 

They stepped out of the elevator, and Crowley wrapped an arm around Aziraphale's waist. He kept a hand framed on the small of his back, and pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s temple because he  _ could.  _

"You said there was something special for tonight?” Aziraphale asked, trying to get rid of his blush. Clearly, Crowley was enjoying it, but he wanted to maintain a modicum of decorum. 

Anthony nodded, “I did,” He agreed, “I’ve been thinking about what you told me, about being a virgin. I don’t regret how we got together, because that’s how we got together, but it doesn’t mean I can’t still romance you.”

How on earth could Crowley say such things? It was unfair. Simply unfair. Aziraphale’s blush came back with a vengeance, and he knew there was no ridding himself of it. Helpless to do anything else, Aziraphale leaned in to kiss him. 

“Mm,” Crowley broke off, grinning, “That’s my reward? I haven’t even shown you what I did.” 

“That’s not the reward,” Aziraphale simpered, “That’s a warm up for later.” Crowley chuckled, and let him to the dining room table. Aziraphale gasped. 

It was a candlelight dinner. The lights were on a dimmer to set a mood for the evening. Two long stemmed candles, that Crowley normally saved for Shabbat, were lit to frame the table. There were two plates, and dishes set upon the table that had salad, pasta, and bread. Aziraphale covered his face, overwhelmed by what he saw. 

There was a cucumber, tomato, onion, avocado, olive, and feta salad. A quarter of a loaf of bread was on a carving board next to the bowl, but that wasn’t the most impressive dish. The third bowl held a generous portion of pierogis, steam was rising from them. Clearly, this had all been plated moments before Aziraphale’s uber had arrived to Crowley’s building. 

“This is  _ incredible,”  _ Aziraphale breathed. “Anthony, thank you!” 

Crowley grinned as Aziraphale leaned in to give him another kiss. “Of course, let’s eat before it gets cold.” He pulled out a chair for Aziraphale, and took a seat himself. 

Anthony made quick work of splitting the food between the two plates. He asked Aziraphale if he wanted anything, but it was a perfunctory ask. Aziraphale loved any and all food, he never said no as long as it wasn’t junk food. He made some conversation as Aziraphale began eating, because he knew after a minute Aziraphale’s delighted moaning would distract him. “I was on the phone with my mother this afternoon, because I couldn’t remember how to get the pierogis to form, and if she knew I got it wrong for you she would come after me.” 

There was a clatter as Aziraphale’s fork fell onto his plate. “Did.. did you  _ make _ this?”

“Of course!” Anthony took a bite, so his smirk wouldn’t be so obvious. Aziraphale gaped, and an emotion passed over his face. He resumed eating, but his face was transformed with the knowledge that the food he was eating had been prepared for him by someone with time and care. 

“It all tastes so wonderful my dear,” Aziraphale smiled, feeling his eyes well up with an emotion. It was really all so sweet of him! “Did you grow up cooking?”

“With my mom, yeah,” Crowley replied. “Dad was off running some election or another, she had her business, but we always made time to cook. It was important to show her culture and his whenever we had dinner. You cook, right?” 

Aziraphale nodded, “My papa and I, we trade off most of the time. If my dad had his way we would eat pizza every night,” and he made a face that Crowley snorted at. “And there’s nothing wrong with pizza, but not every night!”

Anthony nodded sagely. “Of course, of course.” He grinned. 

“So is this how you would seduce your previous paramours?” Aziraphale asked. His lips closed around one of the pierogis, and his eyes fluttered closed in pleasure. An appreciative moan rank out. 

So distracted was Crowley that he didn’t realize Aziraphale had actually asked a question. “Er- yeah,” He said, cursing at himself for losing the upper hand at the seduction. It wasn’t fair. He had worked so hard to cultivate a playboy persona to seduce partners and leave them bow-legged. Aziraphale had been a virgin before him - how could he have this affect on the older man! Crowley shook his head, trying to focus again. 

“Well, this is part of it,” He said, letting a lazy smirk cross over his face. “I usually talk about how much this meal, specifically, means to me to make. But you already know about pierogies, so I can’t impress you with my knowledge there.” 

Aziraphale let out a little giggle, “Not really.” 

“Maybe it’ll impress you that I speak Hebrew and Yiddish,” Crowley guessed, and by the way his face lit up, he was right. 

“I can read Hebrew, and write it very well,” Aziraphale said, which didn’t surprise him at all, “But speaking in other languages is a weakness.” 

“Opposite for me,” Anthony told him. “I’m great at speaking. Not much of a reader, me. But it didn’t stop me from getting into a fight in Yiddish at work today.” 

In hindsight, Aziraphale should have taken that opportunity to press him on that remark. Because the only officer he knew that also spoke yiddish was his papa, Ligur. And if he had pressed, he would have found out that the officer Crowley had gotten into a fight with that day  _ was  _ Ligur. But at that moment, the timer went off, and Crowley went to check on something. Aziraphale finished the last few bites he had in front of him, and made to cover the rest of the food. Picking up the dishes, and balancing the empty plates in one hand and the three serving dishes in the other, Aziraphale walked over to the kitchen to place everything into the sink. 

Crowley mock-glared at him. “You’re supposed to be enjoying the ambiance, not doing the dishes.” 

Aziraphale ignored him. “We’re been together for a while, and have had too many dates for me to feel comfortable not doing them.” 

“At least load the dishwasher, or they’ll be no dessert for you.” Crowley wanted to laugh at how quickly that seemed to get his attention. “Yeah, thought you’d be interested in that.” 

Aziraphale swallowed. “You - you made  _ dessert _ ?” 

“‘Course I made you dessert,” Anthony smirked. “You think I don’t know you by now angel?” 

For the promise of dessert, Aziraphale resorted to loading the dishwasher. He went to give Crowley a kiss, and his boyfriend wasted no time in deepening it. They broke apart, and Crowley tapped one of the barstools with a pointed  _ look.  _ Aziraphale swallowed, and sat down where he asked.

Crowley leaned in, to scoop some of the chocolate lava cake with a spoon. As his face brushed by Aziraphale’s ear, he leaned in to whisper, “Good boy,” to him. Aziraphale shivered pleasantly. Crowley leaned back, offering the spoon. The blush from before returned even more strongly as Aziraphale took a bite from the spoon, but not reaching to take it from him. He slowly chewed and swallowed, moaning at the decadent warm flavors. 

“Amazing,” He breathed, and Anthony gave a low growl. “Keep that up,” He warned, “and we won’t make it.” 

Instead of replying, Aziraphale gave a cheeky grin and opened his mouth again. Crowley gave a dark chuckle, and added some more cake to the spoon. The pattern continued, and thankfully Aziraphale kept his moans of appreciation to a minimum. It still affected Anthony, but to a more controllable degree. 

When the last bite vanished, Crowley wasted no time in claiming Aziraphale for a deep kiss, cornering him against the counter. Aziraphale muffled and appreciative moan, his arms going to grasp at Crowley’s shoulders while his arms went around his waist. There was a moment where he gripped at his waist and  _ pulled _ and Aziraphale’s only warning was a moment of weightlessness before he was being lifted. He let out a startled noise, and instinctively wrapped his legs around his boyfriend as he was carried backwards in the direction of the bedroom. They only broke apart in the time it took for Crowley to gently drop him on his ridiculously large bed. 

Aziraphale scooted back, undoing his own shirt and pants as Crowley kneeled on top of the bed, peeling off his own black tee. For a moment, Aziraphale forgot to remove his pants as he got distracted by Crowley’s very lovely chest. The redhead noticed his stillness, and smirked. 

“See something you like?” Anthony asked, smirking. Aziraphale couldn’t even begrudge him and nodded shamelessly. Crowley made quick work of undoing his own fly and slinked up the bed, making his way to settle on top of his boyfriend. As he went, his pants were shrugged off. He finally made it over Aziraphale and leaned down to claim him in another kiss. 

“Well, I see something I would  _ really _ like,” He growled, “And you’re wearing far too much clothing sweetheart.” 

With that, his hands slid down to pull off Aziraphale’s pants, and his lips were not far behind. He took a moment to have at Aziraphale’s neck, because there was a spot that always made him arch his back and whimper - and he  _ needed  _ to bite at it. But as he pulled back to slide his pants off, his mouth followed, placing bruising kisses along his chest, his stomach, his thighs. Crowley loved his thighs and stomach. He loved all of Aziraphale. 

As he slid off his boyfriend’s underwear, Aziraphale’s erection sprang up to meet him. Anthony’s eyes glinted in the dark light, nearly glowing with anticipation. The hunger in his gaze was just as overwhelming for Aziraphale as the love bites had been. 

“I’m not letting you out of this bed,” Anthony promised, his eyes looking impossibly bright, “Until I have to carry you off of it.” 

His hands lightly ran up and down his inner thighs, and Aziraphale sucked in a breath. 

“Is that a promise?” He panted. Crowley grinned darkly. “It’s that, and a threat baby.” 

Crowley closed his lips around his erection, and Aziraphale let out a loud moan. His head fell back against the pillows, and his back arched into a near perfect bow. Anthony however had had the foresight to hold his hips down, so there was nowhere for him to buck towards or away. Aziraphale was pinned in place with no escape from the pleasure of Crowley’s tongue. It was as if Crowley was trying to make a meal out of him, and Aziraphale wanted nothing more than to be consumed. He moaned, desperately, already feeling the pleasure cresting in waves. That was when he realized that somehow - probably from his pants’ pocket, Crowley had brought a lubed finger to encircle his entrance and gently start to push in. He squirmed a bit, trying to move with him. Crowley was quick to add another finger, and they curled until Aziraphale let out a hoarse cry, seeing white as he spilled down his throat. 

Anthony refused to let up, sucking until Aziraphale’s moans turned into oversensitized gasps, and he was pleading for a moment’s reprieve. Finally, reluctantly, Crowley released his length, but didn’t relent on stretching him out. Crowley did shift, reaching for a pillow. 

“Sit up for me sweetheart,” He said, voice rough. “Turn over for me angel.” 

Shaking, Aziraphale moved and adjusted to how Anthony wanted him. A few pillows were placed underneath him, and he laid down on his stomach. His hands braced themselves on the pillow below his head, and he contemplated grabbing at the headboard. But before he could decide, Crowley was plastered along his back, sinking into him. They both let out satisfied groans, and Anthony reached around to wrap an arm around his chest. 

Slowly, his hips snapped into Aziraphale’s, who eagerly moved back to meet him. The rhythm built up, accompanied by the sounds of their harsh breathing. Crowley’s lips found his neck, and he placed more harsh kisses and bites along the skin he found. He was rewarded with moans that rose in a fever pitch - Aziraphale was wonderful at showing loud appreciation for him - and Crowley was truly grateful. Between the delicious heat of his boyfriend, and the moans from Aziraphale, Crowley was soon groaning his release into Aziraphale’s ear. He nibbled on it, reaching down with his hand to jerk him off. Before long, Aziraphale was shuddering his completion in his arms. 

Crowley panted, slowly shifting so they could both lay on their sides. He pressed closer, so they could be spooning. 

“Do you have another in you?” He asked, and Aziraphale let out a pitiful whimper. Crowley grinned though, understanding his partner well enough by now to know when a moan meant  _ I can’t believe you can get my body to do this.  _ Crowley’s stamina had been intimidating to others, but Aziraphale had enough of a pace to match him. As if they were meant to be. He placed more kisses along his shoulder, sucking purpling bites to leave his mark as he slid back into that welcoming heat. Aziraphale’s hands reached up to hold his arm as they moved together. Aziraphale’s head tilted back against his shoulder, and Crowley pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat, and nibbled along his ear. 

“You’re mine,” He growled, “All mine. Mine to have - no one else’s.”

“Yours,” Aziraphale agreed through gasps, “All yours - yes - yes - Oh Crowley!” 

With a final growl, his other hand slowly trailed down his chest. Aziraphale’s dick would be too sensitive for further stimulation, but playing with his nipples would get him to come before Crowley did. He mewled as Anthony flicked his thumb over the sensitive nub. As his forefinger joined his thumb to roll and pinch, Aziraphale’s hips jerked involuntarily at the stimulation. Grinning, Crowley freed his other arm from his boyfriend’s grip to give the other nipple the same attention. 

“Ah!” Aziraphale cried out, alternating between grinding down on his cock and pushing his chest into Crowley’s hands, “Ah! Oh! Yes! Crowley please!” 

“It’s alright,” He encouraged, “I have you. It’s alright. Let go for me angel. I have you.” 

Desperately, Aziraphale gasped for breath and arched as he came for a third time. As he shuddered and writhed, his body tightened, and Crowley groaned appreciative for him. It only took a handful more thrusts for him to release, so affected by Aziraphale’s pleasure as he was. When he released, he took a moment to catch his breath until he was no longer panting, harshly. After catching his breath, he placed a gentle kiss to Aziraphale’s shoulder - who was still trembling slightly. 

Crowley pushed himself up, gently running his hand up and down Aziraphale’s back as he leaned to his bedside table, to grab the small towel he had placed there earlier for this moment. He carefully turned Aziraphale to lay on his back, and wiped at his boyfriend’s stomach and member, making sure none of their spend would harden on him as they slept. Already, his eyelids were drooping. Crowley slid off the bed, giving himself a perfunctory wipe and making sure the towel went in his laundry basket, for later. He stretched, letting his back  _ pop  _ and giving a satisfied groan. He sauntered back to bed, where Aziraphale had not yet fallen asleep. His angel was instead giving him a satisfied and pleased smile. 

“Thank you,” Aziraphale whispered, cuddling into his side. “I’m glad we had that.”

“Me too,” He answered. “Still glad we had what we did. But. You know. We can also have this.” 

Aziraphale gave a yawn, nearly completely asleep. It was probably why he said, “I love this,’ before falling asleep on his shoulder. Crowley, exhausted himself, felt his eyes widen. Was that? Did he? No. He couldn’t have? 

His own ramblings were cut off with a yawn. Future contemplation would have to wait. Crowley had more than earned this night’s rest. Aziraphale was nestled, pleased as a peach into his side, having fallen asleep with a smile across his face. Crowley brushed a kiss to his forehead, and let his eyes flutter shut. It felt far too early to be pondering such things, but all he could think of was how in such a short span of time, he had fallen so deeply for the one in his arms. Yes. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was in love with Aziraphale. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you enjoyed! Next chapter will bring us back to the post party morten and all the drama that will ensue.


	8. After The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the truth is in the air, what comes next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG so listen, I did and do and still have ideas and hopes and dreams for this story I PROMISE. Just... the quarantine made me lose track of a lot of it. But it's back and I'm back.

As the party came to an uncomfortable close, it became apparent that Aziraphale was not yet willing to cow to what his parents wanted. After the refreshments had been cleared away, the team slowly started trailing out to their various cars. Hastur had turned to Aziraphale and informed him that it was time to go. 

"I'm going with Anthony," Aziraphale had said, trying to remember what Gabriel had told him. He was an _adult_. He was _graduating_ _college_. If he wanted, he _could_ go back to his boyfriend's place for the night. 

Hastur was not interested in the back-talk. He snapped, "You can't just-not with  _ him- _ " but he was cut off by Gabriel. 

"He  _ can _ ," Gabriel corrected. "Aziraphale is an  _ adult _ , you can't tell him that he can't stay with his boyfriend." 

Ligur gave Gabriel a furious look, but he was right. And he knew that if he pushed or yelled at his son, it would only drive Aziraphale away. He just couldn’t believe his son would be the type to go for a bad boy. Nevertheless, Ligur knew he was an intimidating motherfucker. So he gave Crowley a level stare. The kind he used to give hooligans when he would have to take people into custody when he already had Aziraphale in the backseat. 

Resolutely, Anthony did  _ not _ gulp. But it was a close thing. 

Hastur and Ligur were terrifying and had been on the force for decades. And he’d spent the last month giving vivid details of all the ways he had taken their son’s virginity. There had to be something he could say, some way to mollify the situation. 

He had nothing. 

"Come along Anthony," Aziraphale said, walking away. For a moment, Crowley wanted to say something to the rest of the squad, but then he thought better of it and walked off. 

The way back to his apartment was dead silent. Aziraphale hadn't said more than two words to him on the ride back. 

“At least your red velvet cake was a hit,” Crowley said. Aziraphale had leaned against the window of the Bentley, and didn’t answer. 

They parked back at his apartment, and silently rode the elevator up to the top of the building. Again, Crowley tried to offer a benign comment, but it got ignored for favor of Aziraphale walking past him to the bedroom. 

Crowley was planning on apologizing, of course. Plenty of groveling would definitely be in his future. For sure he was already planning on getting crepes from that french place down his street that Aziraphale loved early the next morning. Maybe he would get some angry sex tonight? They hadn’t done that yet. Could be fun. 

"Aziraphale," He called out, but stopped in the doorway of this bedroom. 

Aziraphale was seated on the floor, in front of Crowley’s snake tanks. He used to keep them out of sight when he had guests, but he moved them because Aziraphale loved them and they loved him. He had taken them out in a fit of stress relief, and let them curl up with him. William Snakespeare was curled around his torso, Monty was around his shoulders, and Reese was in his palms. 

"How could you?” Aziraphale demanded, as he came near, but the impact of his glare was lessened as Reese became a pancake in his hands. “I'm very angry with you," Aziraphale said sternly, and Crowley had to fight to keep his heart melting, because seeing Aziraphale cuddle the snakes close was  _ adorable _ , "This was not how I thought tonight would go."

"I didn't exactly think tonight would go that way either,” Crowley replied, but Aziraphale gave a huff. 

“Anthony those people are my  _ family _ ! They raised me! And you, you… you said  _ things.  _ Things about me! They… I don’t want them to think I’m some…”

“You don’t want them to think you’re some slut?” Crowley guessed, and Aziraphale gave such a  _ glare _ that he had to look away. When Aziraphale was mad he was adorable, but Crowley didn’t want to laugh and make him angrier. 

Aziraphale turned his attention to the snakes, and gently nosed Monty Python. “ _ Yes _ ,” He whined answering the question, “And why am I  _ surprisingly  _ flexible?” 

Crowley snorted, and moved to sit near the snakes, and Aziraphale. His lover glared at him, but didn’t immediately shuffle away. So that could be counted as a win. 

“Beelzebub and Michael are always going on about  _ ‘your body, your choice’ _ ,” Crowley reminded him, “So if they give you a hard time, doesn’t that make them hypocritical? And I don’t think your… which ones are your godparents again?”

“Uncle Gabriel, Auntie Michael, Auncle Beelzebub, and Auntie Dagon.” Aziraphale promptly answered. 

“All  _ four _ of them?” Anthony’s eyes went  _ wide.  _ “Aziraphale, they're  _ all _ your godparents?" 

"That's a tradition, for officers," Aziraphale explained, "They were all there for me when I was growing up. Auntie Michael was the whole reason my dads even _ found me _ ." 

Crowley took a moment to shake his head in disbelief. 

“Auntie Michael, Auncle Bee, and Auntie Dagon all spoke in court, at my custody hearing,” Aziraphale continued, “They were character witnesses for my dads.”

"It's bad enough that your parents hated me before they knew about  _ this _ ," He let out a choked laugh. 

"Why would they?" Aziraphale asked, "I know they can be a little  _ stern- _ "

" _ Little _ stern? Angel they glare at me _ all the time _ . Ever since I insulted that, well. I insulted  _ your _ sunflower drawing."

Aziraphale gave him a hurt look that was just  _ cruel _ . "What was wrong with my sunflower drawing? I did that when I was three."

"It wasn't- I was just-  _ ngk _ ," Crowley scrambled for the right words, until Aziraphale laughed. 

"I had you going, didn't I?" Triumphantly, Aziraphale relaxed with a satisfied huff and wiggle. Crowley wanted to feel annoyed, but was pretty sure that he was the last person who had any right to feel that way. 

Aziraphale, the  _ brat _ , was still chuckling. William slithered up to nose at his cheek, and Aziraphale pecked the top of his head. 

“They’re all nice to me but I never saw myself an artist. It’s not a good picture. I’ve told them for years they should just paint over it and touch up the walls, but it just makes my dad so angry with me.”

“Do you call them both dad?” Anthony asked. Aziraphale shook his head. 

“Hastur is my dad. Ligur I call papa. Auncle Beelzebub is my non-gendered relative, Gabriel is my favorite uncle, as he likes to put it, and Dagon and Michael are my aunties.” He placed a little kiss to the top of Monty’s head, and gently set him back in his tank. He went with a reluctant  _ hiss _ but settled easily enough.

"Can I get a kiss?" Crowley asked, and frowned when Aziraphale ignored him. Instead, he brought his palms up to give Reese Slitherspoon a kiss, because she would bite if she started to feel left out. 

"I only give kisses to those who don't speak of my intimate moments with my  _ parents _ ." Aziraphale scolded, and giggled as William Snakespeare beat him to a kiss to the cheek.

"I promise to never tell any of them anything again," Crowley vowed, but Aziraphale was standing up to put the other two back in their tanks. Reluctantly they went, settling on their favorite perches as Aziraphale covered their enclosures up. 

"I don't know how I can look at my dads, or Uncle Gabriel in the eye again," Aziraphale complained. " _ Surprisingly flexible _ ." 

"I only said that  _ once _ ," Crowley defended, wrapping his arms around him from behind, "And it was only because I was so  _ impressed _ by last Saturday. You remember last Saturday?" 

Aziraphale blushed - he could remember last Saturday. He had wrapped one leg around Crowley's shoulders, _while _seated in his lap when they last took a bath together. It had been something he read about and they had _both_ enjoyed every moment. 

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Aziraphale whispered, but Crowley was grinning against his ear. 

"You  _ do _ ," He argued, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Aziraphale turned his head away, but Crowley felt emboldened. He  _ saw  _ the smile his boyfriend was trying to hide. 

"C'mon angel, don't be mad at me," He said, pressing another kiss to his temple. "Don't be mad at me."

He repeated the phrase in between kisses to his face, his temple, and his neck. Aziraphale had put up a half-hearted protest, but the reluctant smile grew and grew until it overtook his face. 

Crowley grinned, gently feeling around his waist and stomach. Aziraphale was soft all over, and there was so  _ much  _ to cuddle and caress. He could feel his boyfriend relax in his arms. 

“I’m not… the most ridiculous part,” Aziraphale said, “Is that I’m upset, but I’m not  _ that  _ upset. I think I love you.”

His eyes widened the second he said it. "Oh my gosh. Crowley! I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I wanted to tell you but not like this-" Aziraphale's shoulders slumped.

"Aziraphale," Crowley said softly, his eyes glinting gently, "I love you too. I think I was yours the moment you held my snake for the first time." 

He tilted Aziraphale's chin up with his hands and kissed him. They broke apart, and Crowley waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Aziraphale snorted, and shook his head. 

“If you think for a moment that I’m going to hop into bed with you for some hanky panky-”

“Alright, alright!” Crowley held up his hands in a ‘surrender’ fashion. “I get it, I’m in the dog house for a bit. Just never call it ‘hanky panky’. You aren’t from the fifties.” His face seemed to twist. “Is that…. Is that something you learned from  _ Michael?”  _

Aziraphale nodded, moving to undress from the clothing he had worn out. Crowley was rooted to the spot, suddenly realizing how much his boyfriend had been influenced by his very coworkers. 

“Angel, when you said ‘ _ virginity construes a commoditization of women _ ’, was that-”

“Auncle Bee, yes,” Aziraphale answered, snuggling under the covers. Crowley shook his head in disbelief. 

“And the handkerchiefs?” 

“Hanukkah gifts from Auntie Michael.” Crowley snorted. 

“Of course,” He said, shucking off his own shirt and pants, and sliding in the bed to cuddle. 

Pointedly, Aziraphale scooted away with a  _ look.  _

“Oh c’mon!” Crowley did not whine, “I’m not going to try and fuck you.” 

“Right, you will not,” Aziraphale said, in a deadpan. “This is an Alaskan King Sized Bed. There is more than enough room here for us to spread out.” 

Crowley made a dramatic groan, but he shifted away all the same. It was fine, but the  _ moment  _ Aziraphale was asleep and he was asleep he was going to naturally gravitate to his boyfriend and cuddle him. That was just the way he worked. 

He turned out to be wrong. Whether on purpose or not, Aziraphale hadn’t fastened William’s tank tightly enough. In the middle of the night, Crowley woke up to an angry hissing noise when he tried to subconsciously spoon Aziraphale. William had escaped from his tank and had slithered up the bed to pool directly on top of Aziraphale, because he was lovely and warm. And he did not want to share the human. 

\---------

The next day, when they were back at work, Gabriel walked Crowley to Ligur's desk to pick up a photo from Aziraphale's high school graduation. "He's literally all over this precinct," Gabriel said. He picked up several other photos, all of them showing photos of Aziraphale. There were smaller ones on other desks, all of them events from Aziraphale’s life. "You are supposed to be one of the best detectives here." 

Crowley let out a half-hearted chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess I just didn't want to see.” 

They didn’t spend much time commiserating after that, because the Winter Break Program was starting. During the holidays, the police department ran a series of daytime activities for kids to enroll in at a low cost. They were meant to encourage kids to get involved with local government, service work, and volunteering. It was also meant to improve relationships with their precinct and the community. It was one of Michael’s ideas, she had started it sixteen years ago. A couple officers every year were selected to coordinate from the police department. In light of Crowley getting into a fight at the party last night, he was chosen to run the program today. Hastur and Ligur, when they worked tomorrow, would be running it then. 

The children were monsters - worse, they were middle schoolers. They ridiculed him, mocked him, and after five minutes Crowley was cowed into showing the movie Michael had given him. 

"It's a nightmare in there," He groaned to Gabriel and Aziraphale, during their lunch break. Aziraphale had been called in by Gabriel, because now that he was done with classes, he had more time to spend at the precinct again. And apparently Gabriel liked to call Aziraphale in to hang out with them, but usually did it under the guise of ‘getting computer help’. 

"You know how hard it is to get I.T. in here," Gabriel had pointed out, and he was right. 

So Aziraphale was there, working on Gabriel's computer while they both listened to Crowley complain about the program. 

"It's just such a waste of time," He groaned, "They don't listen, they don't want to be there, it's just pointless." 

"He's only upset because they made fun of him,” Gabriel whispered to Aziraphale in a conspiratory fashion. Aziraphale giggled, not taking his eyes off the screen. “They told him he had feminine hips.” 

Crowley scowled. “I  _ don’t _ ,” He said, “They’re just brats.” 

Aziraphale pressed a few more buttons, and then made an affirming noise. "Alright," Aziraphale said, "It should be fine now, try." He got up, still leaning over Gabriel's shoulder as he pressed a few buttons. Finally, he let out a triumphant noise. 

"It worked! Thanks sunshine," He grinned, giving Aziraphale a hug. 

"Of course Uncle Gabe." Aziraphale answered, smiling into the hug. 

Aziraphale looked at Crowley. "So, I'm hearing that you're having an issue with the kids?" 

"Yes," Crowley groaned again. 

Aziraphale laughed. "Alright, alright. If you let me pick the movie next week over dinner, I'll help you." 

He got up and headed to the door before Crowley could process what he'd said. "Wait! Angel no-" He called, but Aziraphale had already gone inside. 

"Shit, they're gonna tear him apart," Crowley hissed, and Gabriel rolled his eyes at the dramatics. Crowley dashed to the door, flinging it opened. He was unprepared for what he found. 

Aziraphale was sitting on one of the tables, the kids were surrounding him. They were all smiling at him. 

"Where have you been?" One of the girls - who had called Crowley stupid not an hour ago - demanded. "This place has been so boring without you!"

"I've missed you too Pepper," Aziraphale grinned at her, not bothered by her harsh tone. "I'm sorry, it's just school got too busy and I couldn't be a counselor anymore." 

_ Counselor _ ? Aziraphale kept talking though, catching up with the rest of the kids, whom he obviously all knew. They listened to him - they clearly looked up to him. Crowley was stunned. 

"We started this program sixteen years ago - Aziraphale was the youngest person in the group at the time. He’s the reason Michael started it." Gabriel had come up, standing next to Crowley who was watching them all in shock. Gabriel gave Crowley a teasing grin, regarding Aziraphale fondly. "He's been in it his whole life. He helped run it until he started college." 

Crowley swallowed. "I was being an asshole earlier," He whispered. He regretted his earlier words about the program - it wasn't a waste. Not if it helped produced anyone like Aziraphale. 

"Nah, You're fine," Gabriel reassured him. He watched Aziraphale laugh with the kids, telling them some story or another about school. "Aziraphale knows you were just stressed out, and teenagers can be vicious. But now he gets to talk with the kids - it's a win-win because he's helping you and spending time with them. But I think it's time you get in there and do your job"

"Fine," Crowley did not whine, and entered the room. The voices died down when he came in. A few of them even snickered. Crowley glared back. 

"What's he doing back," Brian mumbled petulantly, looking at Aziraphale. 

"Can't you stay?" Wensleydale begged, and Aziraphale leaned in to give him a hug. 

"I'm sorry dears," Aziraphale said, "But I can't. Have something rather urgent to get to, but I promise you'll be in good hands with Anth- Crowley," He corrected himself. "Please be good for my boyfriend." 

"He's your boyfriend?" Pepper's jaw dropped. "But why?" 

“Because I like him very much,” Aziraphale said, in a no-nonsense way that made her look down bashfully, and gave him a smile that made Crowley’s heart want to melt. “And maybe, if you’re all very good, he’ll show you his taser.”

Crowley laughed as several voices demanded he follow through on that promise, and Aziraphale left the room. He closed the door behind him, ignoring Gabriel’s smile. 

“Well, that was nice of you,” He cooed. “You must really like him.”

“Of course I do,” Aziraphale said, not rising to the bait. Uncle Gabriel loved to tease. He had to not react. That was the secret. His cell phone then chimed, and Aziraphale went to check it.

Not one to be deterred, Gabriel made a plaintive noise. “You know, I guess this little match-up makes sense. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea you two are together,” His tone went teasing, “Especially because you’re in  _ love- _ ” 

He was cut off as Aziraphale gasped, and covered his mouth with one hand. 

“What is it?” Gabriel asked. Aziraphale jumped, having obviously forgotten he was there. 

“Nothing,” Aziraphale lied, badly. 

Gabriel gave him an unamused look. “You wanna try that one again kiddo?” 

“I’m not a child,” Aziraphale pouted, and Gabriel resisted smiling at him. He bit back his first-instinct response, ‘You’ll always be a child to me,’ because he knew it would just make his godson pout all the more. 

“I can play ‘guess what’ as long as it takes,” Gabriel reminded him instead, “So you should start talking.”

There was a moment where they stared at each other, neither willing to budge. Thankfully, Gabriel had more experience, both in interrogations, and in raising Aziraphale. After a few moments, Aziraphale let out a sigh. 

“You have to promise not to tell,” Aziraphale begged, leading him into the breakroom. He closed and locked it, and then lowered the blinds. Gabriel blinked. 

“This isn’t illegal is it?”

Aziraphale whirled on him in shock. “What? Of course not!” His expression didn’t look any less anxious though. “But my dads won’t be happy.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Gabriel warned him. Aziraphale handed over his phone. 

“It’s about grad school,” His godson explained, “It’s my after-graduation plan. I… I got in.”

Gabriel let out an excited noise, pulling Aziraphale into a hug. “That’s amazing! I’m so so happy for you sunshine!” 

Aziraphale smiled into Gabriel’s shoulder trying to hide his face. 

“So, what is it? What are you going to school for?” 

His joy started to fade, as Aziraphale refused to look up or acknowledge him. “Aziraphale? Sunshine?” 

The response was mumbled into his shoulder. 

“C’mon Aziraphale,” Gabriel said, “You know I can’t hear you-”

“It’s law school.” Aziraphale said, looking up at him worriedly. “It’s Tadfield Law School.” 

Gabriel’s jaw dropped. “What?” He did not see that coming. 

“Aziraphale, you know what your parents think about lawyers, especially after Azrael-” His voice cut off as Aziraphale looked down. 

“No. Aziraphale, tell me you are not trying to get-”

“His scholarship. Yes I am.” Aziraphale looked back up at him, pleadingly. “I know they don’t like Azrael, and they still have the grudge, but it’s been so many years.”

“He’s the reason you almost didn’t get adopted, did you forget?” Gabriel hissed. 

“I know, but they  _ did  _ adopt me. And I never want what almost happened to me to happen to anyone else, okay? That’s why I have to go, that’s why I need to help other people. And his scholarship is a way I can do that.” 

Gabriel swallowed, not quite knowing what to say. Aziraphale’s expression turned pleading. 

“Please don’t tell them!” Aziraphale begged. “I just have to meet with Azrael first, and do the interview. There’s a really good chance I won’t get it, and if I don’t get it, I can’t afford to go anyway. So there may not even be a reason to bring it up if it won’t happen. And with everything going on with Anthony and I, we don’t need to add to their stress. Alright?” 

His eyes widened, and his lower lip began to wobble. Maybe it was manipulative, but he wasn’t ready to have this conversation with them. Not until he talked about dating. 

Gabriel groaned. The others were right, he really was the biggest pushover when it came to giving Aziraphale what he wanted. 

“Alright, alright,” He acquiesced, “I won’t say anything. But you need to talk to them, okay?” 

“I’ll talk to them later,” Aziraphale agreed firmly, “After I have my interview. Which will be tomorrow, so don’t worry. It won’t be a secret for very long.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting to some pllooooooooot :D HMU on Discord, Tumblr, Instagram! I'm Shay Moonsilk on all platforms.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Please be constructive I appreciate any and all feedback! 
> 
> My Tumblr is Shay Moonsilk and I am also Shay Moonsilk on Discord :)


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